


Clothes Maketh the Man

by riane_b13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arguing, Auror Draco Malfoy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Witty Banter, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 86,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riane_b13/pseuds/riane_b13
Summary: They Say Clothes Maketh the Man but this Reporter says that Clothes Maketh the Witch as well. Pansy Parkinson has outdone herself with this fashion line. However, sources say that the mastermind behind this overnight sensation is Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Wizard of the Summer, Draco Malfoy. He was spotted making waves in the fashion house and he is doing it in style.Everyone seems to be wearing the clothes Miss Parkinson designs. We even have seen our favorite Golden Girl in the new summer line. Is our favorite bad boy behind more than just what this Gryffindor wears into the boardroom? You heard it here first there's more than just fabric in the Parkinson's Fashion House. There is a steamy summer romance afoot! Will these two celebrities be like white after Labor Day and die out are they a forever couple like a little black dress?Catch all this and more with your favorite reporter Rita Skeeter!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 288
Kudos: 631
Collections: The Dramione Collection, dm fanfics





	1. A Temporary Setback

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Right Thing To Do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472648) by [LovesBitca8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesBitca8/pseuds/LovesBitca8). 



> Thanks to my lovely beta missELY.
> 
> Also thanks to Lovebitca8 and her epic Pansy in TRTTD. This crazy world full of fashion fantasy and intellectual fights is because of her. I plan on doing weekly updates and I'd love to hear your feedback. Without further ado let's just jump right into it!

“Parkinson’s.” Draco read dryly, wondering why Pansy wanted him to approve the new letterhead. Pansy rolled her eyes and pointed a manicured finger at the line below it.

“An affiliate of Malfoy Holdings.” She grinned before snatching it back. “If you’re going to pour that much money into my company Draco, you might as well get to put your name on it.” Waving her hands matter-of-factly she turned a corner and began the walkthrough of the morning. 

“You say this like you gave me any choice in the matter Pansy. If I _have_ to put this much money into something then I’m going to _ensure_ it doesn’t burn to the ground.” Adjusting the buttons on the vest of the three-piece grey suit he decided to wear for day one, he walked through the doors of Parkinson’s, Luxury Fashion House for the modern business witch.

**************

“Six months.” Draco stared at the suspension sheet. It’s glowing red indicator script seemingly taunting him of how long he would be banned from all ministry cases. “ Potter, you’re not serious.” 

“Malf-Draco, I didn’t set the stipulations, but you know what you pulled out there was dangerous. I just got the position of Head Auror. If I didn’t file your report and schedule you for a psych eval they would’ve had my head in.” He groaned, ruffling the already messy blop of ebony hair. 

“You’ll still be on retainer for the potions you make and it’s a paid suspension, not that it would affect you, but it looks nicer on your record that way.” Harry tried to soften the blow of the whole ordeal.

“But someone will have to pick up my handcrafted potions because _all suspended individuals are banned from Ministry offices._ ” He barked back reading the terms of his suspension to Harry. "The shit you pulled at 16, Potter and they’re suspending me for this crap?” 

Steeling his grey eyes Draco took a moment to stare at the clock on the wall behind Harry’s desk. Draco controlled his breathing in time with the second hand until he could trust himself to return to a state capable of conversation.

Pausing to clean his glasses, Harry continued. “Which is why I didn’t do the recommended twelve months. Psych gave you six and I have zero control over what they say. Honestly, after what you had to go through, they’re right. Take some time. Relax. Look, as soon as your time’s up I’ll find the best case for you and put you on it no matter who’s currently on the docket.”

The weariness was evident on Draco’s face as he ignored decades of etiquette lessons and slumped in the chair. Perking up slightly at his last statement, Draco grabbed his coat and moved to head out of Harry’s office. 

“That’s a Slytherin offer Potter, and you bet your arse I’m holding you to it as soon as my time is up.” 

**************

Hermione was running through the atrium, trying not to be late to her meeting with Shacklebolt. They were set to have her Elf Resident Identification Bill up to court next week and this was one of their final comb throughs of it. 

Shuffling the rather large stack of papers in her hands, she didn’t notice the warpath Malfoy was on to leave the Ministry until it was too late. Hermione Granger had just bumped into him with a very unladylike “humph!”

“I’m so sorry.” She murmured as she picked herself up off the ground and finally noticed who she ran into.

“Granger?” Draco practically roared as the papers flew around the floor. Smoothing out any wrinkles that appeared in his suit Draco pertly pulled out his wand and cast a charm over the papers to stop their flurrying.

“For all of Salazar’s wit will this day not end?! Will the bloody Weasel come up to me and tell me that my flat has caught on fire so I can get the entire golden trio to ruin my day?”

“I said I was sorry Draco. You don’t need to be so rude.” Hermione huffed while she began to pick up the papers and arrange them in their correct order.

“Furthermore, why on earth are you carrying a paper stack the size of a house-elf? You’re a witch Granger, I’m sure you have at least one bag with an expandable charm in it.” He groaned and walked off to the departing floos.

“What an overblown albino peacock. Where does he get off?” She hissed to the space he left. Taking a deep breath to cool herself, she deemed the papers appropriate. As she walked towards the lifts Hermione attempted to plan an apology for why she was taking up even more of the Minister’s time by being late.

  
**************

“Harry! Merlin, sorry I’m so late but I did pick up some lasagna from the little Italian spot by the flower shop, so you can’t be too mad at me on my turn for dinner night.” Hermione chattered on as she stepped into 12 Grimmauld Place.   
  


“Also I had the most vile run in today with everyone’s favorite Auror.” She started but paused as she came into the kitchen and took a hold of the sight before her.

Harry looked a right wreck. His Auror robes were haphazardly thrown on the spare kitchen chair. He looked befuddled and honestly haggard. He had a bottle of fire whiskey and a glass in his hand while he seemed to be filtering through case files like he was playing a game of solitaire.

“Well I was going to complain about my day at work, but you clearly have me beat.” She joked lightly, sitting the food down on the table as she moved to grab a couple of plates for them and a glass herself.

When she set a plate of food down in front of him, Harry finally awoke from whatever slump made him bring work home on a Tuesday. “Uh, oh. Hey, Hermione, this looks great. Yeah sorry, today is one for the dogs. I basically just had to suspend Malfoy for six months. He was supposed to take on my role as number two, and honestly no one else is even close to trained for it. I might have to just go back out into the field and beg Alcott to stay on for six more months.” 

Placing case files away in a corner of the table and pouring herself a glass of the whiskey, Hermione attempted to understand things. “Well that does explain his blow up this afternoon.” She paused, digging into the dinner before adding,“that’s wretched Harry, you were so excited to get the job of Head Auror. What happened?”

“Godrick Hermione, I wish I could tell you. Malfoy had the mother of all cases. A dozen Aurors below him would’ve come out dead, and they didn’t have to deal with half the shite that… never mind. If I spill any more _I’ll_ get suspended and Dean Thomas sure as shite can’t take over.”

Ignoring the shocking fact that Dead Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were the top team after Harry and Malfoy, she placed a delicate hand on Harry's back; rubbing soothing circles into it.

“You’ll figure it out Harry, you always do.”

“I know, I just feel like shite doing this to Malfoy. He’s a great fucking Auror and he had to work like a dog just to get them to accept him in the position, despite the fact I barely got the N.E.W.T.S to qualify and Draco exceeded them with flying colors; not to mention he blew my potions practical scores out of the water..”

Chuckling at the reminder of Harry’s joy in passing by the slimmest margin she added. “Well, you were The-Boy-Who-Lived.”

“Don’t you start ‘Mione. Or every time you get another bill passed I’ll give you the Golden Girl speech. Malfoy got great marks all through school and even beat you as number one when you were being a time turner idiot 3rd year.” Harry went to continue but blanched up at the glare he received.

“Why are you talking about Malfoy like he’s your best mate?”

“Because he’s not that bad. He finished the mission when he was really outnumbered. Plus I’m now that I’m shot a partner my workload is double. Malfoy and I have been fighting in the same vicinity for over a decade off and on. Do you know how easy that is translated into being Auror partners?”

“Not so when you two hate each other.”

“He’s different now ‘Mione, honest.”

“I find that hard to believe when he still looks like we’re not worth the ground beneath his designer wearing feet.” She bristled and Harry tried not to bark back too much.

“I promise Hermione, he’s a decent guy now. Yeah he’s still all posh and he’s an arrogant twat at times, but he can be really funny, and witty. And Hermione, he’s damned good at his job.”

  
  


“Harry he’s a prat. He bullied us for years. Why are you defending him?” She asked and watched as Harry seemed to unravel. Running a hair through his locks and letting out an exhausted breath.

“Because I feel like I got him suspended. Yes, I should’ve filed the report, but I thought he’d get a slap on the wrist. I know I certainly did a lot worse on my first run at Auror when everyone was scurrying after the war ended.”

“So why do you think he got suspended?”

“Because he’s a Malfoy. People who supported us don’t like his family because they supported Voldemort, and people who supported Voldemort don’t like his family because they turned on Voldemort in the end. He’s out there alone and everything he does has to be perfect to be tolerated. I’m certainly not half as neat as him in most of my cases.”

“So why was this case so different?” She probed, curious now to see what was so special about it. 

“Can’t tell you ‘Mione. Not till the case is finished or the press finds out. With Malfoy’s suspension, it’ll be six months on our end at the earliest.” 

Sighing at the lack of information she would be given she set to start eating. “Listen Harry, don’t beat yourself up. You did the proper thing, and Malfoy will turn out alright. He has more money than Satan and friends that know how to spend it.”

**************

“Bloody do-good bleeding heart Saint Potter got you sacked?” Blaise Zabini questioned as the three of them relaxed in Theodore Nott’s card room. Theo was strumming a mandolin as Blaise and Draco threw darts.

“Not sacked, Zabini. Suspended.” Each word was accented by a sharply thrown dart. 

“Oh the woes of our majesty the great. Shall I craft you a sonnet, no, a ballad of your trials?” 

“Shut it, Nott, before the next one is aimed at your face.” Draco commented with a glare. 

“You wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, now would you?” Theo gasped; adjusting the gold-rimmed frames that sat upon his angular features.

“Have you met me?” Draco sneered over his shoulder.

“Nevermind, Potter ruined that for me.”

“Nice to know he’s ruining other people’s lives…” Draco grumbled and went to grab the delicious aged Scotch that Theo swiped from Nott Sr.’s study. _What he can’t drink in Azkaban will quench my thirst._

“Why do you work at the bloody ministry anyway?” Blaise asked as they switched to have Blaise attempt to match Draco’s shots.

“Zabini, we told you many times. Not all of us can spend all our time burning holes through our inheritances.” Theo chided like a mother reminding her child to chew with their mouth closed.

“And what exactly do you fucking do?” Blaise questioned as he finished his last shot and hissed. Draco beating him for the third time.

“I am a scholar, my dear boy. Why even this lovely mandolin was a little trinket I picked up during my studies of Chinese music.” He explained, strumming chords to some Shanghai Shanty he had learned. 

“Last I checked getting your cock wet through the musicians and dancers of Shanghai does not count as studying music.” Blaise bit back and Draco just barely pulled out a chuckle. 

“Ah you wound me Blaise, but I will forgive you. Because this bloke has been moping about for a bloody fortnight without so much as a smirk and I think your insult of my studies has finally brought him to acceptance.” Theo applauded Blaise by way of some enthusiastic strumming.

“I don’t know Nott, he seems still at anger to me?” Blaise questioned as he placed a hand on the scruff of his beard. He’d been gone for three weeks in Cairo and was attempting to sport a more rugged facade. 

“Are you two idiots really trying to gauge what stage of grief I am on?” Draco questioned, moving to sit at the card table, bored with the game of darts.

“Yes, of course my dear, you know we only care about your happiness.” Theo cooed. Blaise roared in laughter as he moved to join Draco at the table.

“Nott you’re so bloody weird, you know I don’t like it when you get all mother hen.” Draco scoffed before seeing a flash of green flames and standing. 

“It’s about fucking time. Pansy, why in Circe’s name are you so late?” Draco chided while pulling out her seat for her. His upbringing outweighing his frustration.

“I was bringing Daphne.” She gestured to the elder of the Greengrass sisters; as Blaise pulled out the other chair and Theo moved to join them.

“Well let’s get on with this then. Welcome back to Britain Daphne, how was France?” Draco asked lightly as he dealt chips and Theo opened up the box for the self-shuffling cards.

“Oh, it was lovely. I even ran into your Great Aunt Celestia. She was a hoot and said to give you her best.” She chuckled as Draco rolled his eyes.

“I take that as code for ‘she’s still batshit and tried to get me to propose to someone in your family’.” 

“Oh, you know your mother still wants you to pick Astoria. She never did like me.” Daphne giggled lightly at their long-lived joke.

“She met you and she knows I enjoy your company. Therefore you’re not good enough to marry.” He sighed as Pansy waved around her arms to call attention to herself.

“Enough. I refuse to have poker night be tarnished with any Sacred 28 chatter. I’m here to take money from you dolts like I’m your first wife.” Looking at Blaise whose mother had a distinct penchant for being widowed and left with incredible fortunes.

“Pansy go easy on me, I'm hosting this time.” Theo batted his eyelashes and tried to play on the more boyish features he had compared to the other men.

“We’ll see about negotiations.” She responded to Theo.

It was about two hours later. The dinner jackets had all been removed, the table had pilfered through two bottles of Scotch old enough to buy itself a drink, and more money had been tossed around than most people saw in their lifetime.

“I told you, Pansy, I’m not betting the Riviera cottage.” Draco groaned, sharply turning his hand face down to accent his point.

“But you know the rules. Final round is assets only. No dawdling, ok?” Pansy was notoriously good at poker and it was only with Theo and Draco’s combined intellect that they occasionally beat her. Theo was knocked out last round and so it was down to Draco to stop her winning streak.

“What _else_ do you want Pansy, not my homes.” Draco strained.

Pausing a moment to consider her options, she gained a glimmer in her eye.

“How about an investment?” She asked and leaned back as if 5 people in their twenties drunk off their socks were suddenly in a boardroom.

“What, for your little fashion house?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow and flicking his wrist in that elegant and nonchalant way that only people with excessive amounts of money seemed to do.

“Yes, unfortunately my family doesn’t seem to care about my dreams of becoming a fashion mogul and has stopped funding it. But you, prince charming, and your lovely post-inherited self could certainly see to my happiness.” She charmed in that commanding yet polished way that only Pansy Parkinson could pull off.

“How much?” He probed, knowing the value of their final rounds tended to be steep.

“200,000 galleons.” She responded simply, only for Blaise to nearly spit out the drink he just took.

“If I win?” He countered, needing to make sure it was worth betting that much at all if what he would win wasn’t worth the risk. 

Pansy pursed her lips, considering what would be a fitting trade. “The Ibiza penthouse… and the rights to the Spring Festival with it.”

The group were stunned still at her offer. They all had their little get-togethers and parties throughout the year. Draco’s were still majorly run by his mother and were the most formal. Theo liked to coin himself a Dionysus of the day and his ragers were always something you lived to not remember you went to the next morning. But Pansy’s Spring Festival was her baby. She sometimes planned for the party a full year in advance. It routinely was the favorite of the under 30 crowds and the rest of their soirees simply attempted to keep up.

“Take it fucker, take the deal before I make you do myself.” Theo hissed at Draco in hurried whispers.

“Fine then, on three.” He nodded, lifting a thumb under his hand.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three.” And as they both turned their cards over there was a resounding cheer of “fuck” in various levels of joy and regret.

“We all at Parkinson’s are so happy for your very generous donation Mr. Malfoy.” Pansy grinned and turned to Daphne with silent squeals.

“Will my torture never end?” Draco moaned as he placed a hand over his face in frustration and defeat.

  
  



	2. Persistence Pays Off... Period.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If at first, you don't succeed, try try again... and Draco is boyfriend goals.
> 
> Thanks again to my lovely beta missELY

Hermione Granger looked like a tumbleweed running through the atrium. She had overslept after working late on the Werewolf Equality Act the night before. It had rained earlier and her hair had decided to take on a life of its own. She was rushing through the atrium to get to her office, Hopefully with enough time to look at her notes before her meeting began at 10. The meeting was scheduled to start in roughly 20 minutes. Pushing through the doors, she was shocked to find Pansy Parkinson standing in her office looking at a picture of her parents.

“Your picture is broken, Granger.” Pansy paused, placing a slender, manicured finger on the frame of the photo before turning to look at Hermione. Though the widening of her eyes at the state of the Golden Girl didn’t make Hermione feel confident about the visit from the Slytherin Alum.

“It’s a muggle portrait, Pansy. Why are you in my office?” Hermione questioned, setting the stack of papers she was carrying on her desk before sitting down.

“Your secretary let me in. May I sit?” Pansy asked politely, though it seemed to be for show, as she sat down before Hermione had a chance to answer her.

“Pansy I don’t have long and while that does answer the question of _how_ you got into my office it doesn’t tell me _why_ you are here.” She stated tersely. She caught a glance of her reflection in a mirror on her bookshelf and nearly gasped at the sight of herself. She looked dreadful. This was not the day to have one of the meanest girls from her school days in front of her.

“I want you to model for me.” Pansy said simply, moving to grab a large packet from a slim clutch that clearly had an expandable charm on it.

“You’ve got to be joking Pansy.” Hermione scoffed, just knowing that this had to be some terrible prank.

“Given your current circumstances…” Pansy paused, giving her a slow once over that made Hermione feel every bit the insecure teenage girl she had been in school before continuing. “I would normally agree, but no. My team and I want to work our magic on you. Then we will put you on the cover of magazines and on billboards for my fashion line.”

Opening the packet it showcased an animation of sorts. Fashion drawings of pantsuits, dresses, blouses, and skirts, ballgowns and resort wear. All with a clear chic-and-severe aesthetic, but with a surprising amount of muggle influences. 

“Pansy, what is this?”

“This is the future of fashion. Wizard fashion has been in dire need of an upgrade, and who better than I to showcase it to the world?” She grinned, flipping a perfectly slicked-back ponytail. Hermione only cringed more at the tumbleweed her own hair was at the moment.

“The Wizarding World is full of strong, independent, intelligent women. Why in Merlin’s name are we dressing like we’re still members of the royal court?!” Pansy exclaimed with a flourish before she turned the page and an image of a typical pair of dress robes was shown.

“After the war, I decided to look towards beautiful things. I went from country to country and happened to be in Milan for muggle Fashion Week. It was all about design and innovation and I was not about to let the muggles outdo us in clothes! Why it’s positively barbaric how far behind we’ve become!”

Pansy was attempting to appease her with her story of current fashion trends, both muggle, and magic. However, Hermione didn’t particularly care for fashion. Also, it sounded like a backhand compliment in the way Pansy described muggles being more advanced than anything in the magical community.

“And, where exactly do I come into all this Pansy?”

“Why, you’re perfect! You’re smart and well known and you’re the the—“

“Golden Girl?” Hermione finished dryly, not liking where this was heading.

“Exactly! Yes, I knew you were a smart girl Granger.” Pansy grinned, clearly thinking she had won.

Standing up, Hermione closed the folder and moved to open her office door. “Pansy thank you, but no. I’m not about to make a fool of myself in front of you and your friends.” She sighed tiredly, motioning for Pansy to step out. 

“But Granger you don’t understand, you would be the perfect person to—“

“To give your clothing line great publicity and embarrass myself in the meantime. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go to a meeting.” 

“But Granger you see this is—” Pansy started, standing up and trying to explain further.

“I’m sorry Pansy but no. Find another Golden Girl.” Hermione bowed her head slightly and left her office to attend her meeting; irritated that she didn’t have any chance to prepare.

**************

“So Pansy Parkinson did what now?” Ginny asked between bites of salad as they chatted. They had a standing lunch date every Tuesday that Ginny was in town. They were currently sitting at a cafe decently close to the ministry.

“She was in my office, looking like a supermodel herself, and asked me to be a model for her clothing line.” Hermione stated as she picked through her pasta. Honestly, she was still in confusion about the whole thing. 

“Wait, what? Doesn’t she hate you?” Ginny asked, in shock.

“I’m pretty sure she still does.” Hermione said moving to take a few more bites before adding, “I said no anyway. With the Werewolf Equality Act going through addendums, it’s not like I have any time to spare. I’m not too big into fashion, plus could you imagine me wearing any of these clothes?” She questioned, pulling out the folder Pansy had so graciously left her. There was a note attached to the folder that said  _-_ Think it over, okay?

“But you, a fashion model?” Ginny asked while flipping through the folder. Clearly still confused as to why Pansy wanted Hermione for the campaign. 

“She said it was about updating Wizarding fashion for the modern era. She was getting to the level of muggle fashion and that I was perfect.” She paused to eat a bit more of the pasta. “—This is delicious by the way—She said she wanted the Golden Girl for it, and I didn’t want to be just another famous face to attach to some product.” 

After the war had ended the three of them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wildly famous. They were asked for interviews, book deals, product sponsorships. Harry and Hermione always famously refused them, though Harry did do a stint of advertisements for Nimbus, in return for the newest model of brooms for the next five years running. Ron was generally more keen on leaning into fame and accepted the most endorsement deals. Though funnily enough, he always received the least offers, and usually after Harry had declined. The offers had died down some in the years since the war, but every so often people wanted The Golden Trio. Hermione was sure Pansy’s fashion line was no different. 

“You know Hermione, this line does sound like you.” Ginny said reading through the press bio.

“What?” Hermione frowned. “You can’t be serious Ginny?” 

“No, listen. _The modern business witch is as fashionable as she is cunning. She is as comfortable in the ballroom as in the boardroom. She owns her body and her brain in equal and she is always the center of attention, the star of every story._ Pansy’s clothes look really cool, and this is the most muggle influence I’ve seen in any fashion line, ever.” Ginny raised an eyebrow in question as Hermione grabbed the folder and looked closer at the designs. 

Reading it over, it did seem like something she would advocate for but a model? “Honestly I don’t have time for it right now. I’ll support the clothes when they come out, but I’ve never wanted to be like those skinny girls on the cover of Witch Weekly. That type of vanity seemed like a Slytherin thing to do if you ask me.” Hermione chuckled and Ginny nodded in response.

“Well, it looks cool regardless. Back to the major question of Pansy Parkinson? Wasn’t that a blast from the past?” 

“Yeah. It was quite strange. Last I saw of her was when she was still making it her job to be all over Malfoy. Think they’re still together?” Hermione asked, knowing Ginny was much more of a gossip queen than she was.

“Oh god no. They haven’t been an item in forever. Rumor has it the Ferret is slutting his way through just about every girl in the Sacred 28 who he isn’t related to.” She snickered and Hermione joined in.

“I have no idea what people see in that man.”

“You can’t be serious Hermione. Yeah, he’s a prat, but he’s always been fit. Plus don’t you remember the rumors in school?” She whispered with the wiggle of an eyebrow.

“No, what rumor?” Hermione asked, rolling her eye at the mere thought of someone looking at Draco Malfoy as anything but an aristocratic nightmare.

“Wait, really? You never heard about sex demon Draco Malfoy? Guaranteed ride of your life Malfoy. The popping cherry prince?” Ginny gasped in what Hermione could only assume was fake awe.

“No, I was a little too busy trying to save the world to care what Malfoy was rumored to be doing to his little pets.” Hermione rolled her eyes and went to bite into a cherry tomato before Ginny’s nickname for Malfoy made her lose her appetite for them.

“Well I guess you weren’t exactly swooning, but he really had no complaints. Although for a minute there I was sure girls were just lying and saying they were with him. My guess was he’s part Veela. He is super blond and he’s such a little prat that there’s no way he could be that good with women without help.” Ginny theorized as she finished off her salad.

“I can’t believe you actually believe the rumors, Ginny. It’s Malfoy.”

“Yeah and have you noticed he’s only gotten better looking?” Ginny teased.

“Not really. The last time I saw him was when I bumped into him two months ago and he chewed me out. Though he was having a rough go of it.”

“Yeah, Harry told me about the whole suspension business. He’s up to his eyeballs in work with the man down. I barely see him anymore.” She pouted and Hermione could honestly say the same. It’d been 8 weeks of late nights and early mornings for The Chosen One. Hermione had come home many times to see him passed out on the kitchen table with a case file in his hands.

“I think he might be home at a decent time for dinner tonight. You should come join us.” Hermione offered, knowing the girl was set to start traveling with the Harpies at the end of summer.

“Yeah, sounds great, I’ll bring the wine.” Ginny perked up before calling over their waiter for the check.

**************

On Wednesday Hermione had received a letter from a jet black owl in regards to Pansy’s request.

_Granger-_

_The Parkinson’s Fashion Line is the epitome of muggle-wizard collaboration. My research of your interests indicates that this is a high priority for you. Being a part of this campaign would only improve relations._

_-Pansy Parkinson_

_Creative Director and Head Designer_

Hermione sighed and quickly replied.

_Pansy,_

_While that is a cause I support, I simply don’t have the time to model for you. I hope you understand._

_Warm Regards,_

_Hermione Granger._

On Thursday there was a package on her desk with her name on it in the loopy script Hermione now knew was Pansy’s. Inside was a dress. A simple, elegant little black dress with a square neckline and the hem placement just below the knees. It came with a little cape rather than robes. Hermione was loathed to say it was classy, chic, and something she would actually wear.

_Pansy,_

_The dress is lovely. Unfortunately, I cannot accept it as I cannot accept your offer._

_Best,_

_Hermione Granger._

On Friday the dress was back along with three books on feminism, two of them being muggle authors. 

_Granger-_

_These are Parkinson's women. Aren’t you?_

_Pansy_

_P.S Keep the dress. None of our models could fit into your size anyway so it’d just be burned._

While Hermione was pleased with receiving the books, she was even unfamiliar with the wizard world one, the subtle jab at her weight removed all positive sentiments. 

_Pansy,_

_Stop it. I’m not doing your campaign._

_Hermione Granger_

Hermione was thankful for the coming weekend and for the distinct lack of pureblood Slytherins intruding on her workday. She spent it peacefully alone and even got to read some of the books Pansy had given her. Hermione was even set to write her a thank you letter for them. However, with the turn of Sunday into Monday mother nature reared its ugly head. In addition to a rather horrid thunderstorm raging outside, Hermione had started her period, two days early. The first day was notoriously wretched for her and she usually attempted to attack it preemptively with potions or pills. 

So, when Draco Malfoy walked into her office at roughly ten-thirty he was subjected to see her collapsed on her desk face down with her hands in her mane of hair.

“Ginny, thank god you answered fast. I’m dying here, what did you bring me” She groaned, lifting her head up from her desk only to gape at the person in front of her who was most certainly not Ginny Weasley.

“I’m afraid she did not answer that fast. However, I’m sure I can attempt to provide a similar act of joy.” He teased, sauntering closer to her.

“Malfoy what is it that you want? I’m not in the mood today.” Hermione answered and attempted to sit up straight in preparation for whatever insult he would throw at her.

“I’m here on behalf of Pansy.” He started simply, sitting down and fully making himself at home. “You’ve not been responsive to her requests and so I…” He paused as he noticed the blanching of Hermione’s face. 

“Granger, are you alright? You look positively dreadful.” He asked. Hermione was just about to brush off his question when a wave of cramps hit her and nearly took her breath away.

“I’m— fine Malfoy, now please, tell Pansy I’m not interested in being her model. I don’t care about her stupid clothing line.”

“Now that’s where I think you’re wrong you see—” Draco started. Then he saw Hermione’s face clearly. She knew she looked dreadful. The color generally washed from her face, and at the present time, she was positively nauseous from the pain.

“Granger, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” He asked, softer than Hermione had ever heard him before.

“No Malfoy, I’m fine, I’m not sick, well not really, but can you please just tell Pansy to bugger off?” She asked and could see the gears turn in his head before something clicked.

“Chocolate, ice cream, or cake?” He chuckled with a smile on his face.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Chocolate, ice cream, or cake? What is it that you crave? Pansy was always for chocolate. Little minx would steal my sweet stash like clockwork. Mother had a particular pension for pumpkin ice cream and Daphne had vanilla bean cake on standby every 2nd week of the month since she was 14.” He rolled through the lists lightly, suddenly completely unbothered by her predicament.

“Malfoy, what on earth are you talking about?” 

“Are you not a sweets craver during? No matter do you prefer hot or cold I can transfigure either, or to tide you over till the Weaslette gets back.” He smirked and Hermione gasped before blushing wildly.

“Malfoy you can’t—are you—why do yo— how do you know?” She ran through four questions in her head at once as she stared at him. His silver irises practically glittering in mirth.

“Why do I know the period cravings of the three closet women in my life? Well, Pansy and I dated on and off 4th year till graduation. She had invited me over one Friday night for an activity.” He paused and gave her a smirk to imply said act. “Only to cancel on me last minute. I was a little enraged at the sudden change of plans and demanded to know what had changed. You know how persuasive I can be, so she told me.” He chuckled and seemed only to be more amused at the rather gobsmacked expression Hermione had on her face, before continuing his story.

“I, as an only child, didn’t know the slightest thing about that part of a woman’s… life so I did something you’d rather enjoy Granger, I researched. Once I knew every scientific treatment and process I was number one, shocked that every woman I knew continuously bled for a week. I think if I bled for more than two days straight I would go rather insane. Number two, that my mother put the idea of being a gentleman into me so strongly that if I didn’t see to it that Pansy was properly taken care of I might as well have not called myself a Malfoy. We can’t have that now can we?”

Shaking her head at the absurdity of the story, and not wanting to admit that it was one of the sweetest things she had heard, she chose instead to ask, “What did you do?”

“I snuck down to Honeydukes and picked up just about every sweet thing Pansy liked. I’ve always had a penchant for potions, and so I whipped up a pain reliever potion with just a splash of pepper up to combat fatigue, a dash of a mood stabilizer, and two shakes of a stomach settler. Then I visited her dorm room. She thanked me rather vigorously and still will call for that potion every so often. I have half a mind to patent it.” He motioned, waving his hand around as if to brush it all off. “Now back to the matter at hand—“

“Malfoy?”

“Yes Granger, you know you’re being awfully rude interrupting me like this.”

“Why did you care?” She questioned sitting up straighter. Now that the current wave of cramps had passed she could focus on what may have been the most freakish thing she’d ever learned about Malfoy.

“Granger, need you forget, I am a Slytherin. What differentiates us from Ravenclaw, a house I still don’t know why you weren’t in, is that we are loyal. Pansy, at the time, was my girlfriend and she was wounded. If some person had done this to her I would have made their entire lives a living hell. My favorite person in the entire world is my mother. To know that she regularly suffers, and generally can do little to change that, bothers me deeply. Pansy can take a punch, I’ve seen you be, well I’ve seen you in pretty bad situations and so if this knocks you out…” 

He paused, scratching his forearm over his jacket before continuing. “I want to help you defeat the bastard any way I can. Any man that says otherwise is a lesser man, not that any man can be greater than a Malfoy.” He winked and finished lightly.

Taking a deep breath, she decided that on this one day of strangeness she would call a truce. He did seem to want to help and, barring their last interaction, he had been civil to her. Shaking her head of thoughts that would only confuse her, Hermione answered. “It’s carrot cake, and hot.” 

Catching her reply he smirked and stood, buttoning his jacket as he said. “I’ll be back faster than a snitch’s lap around the pitch.”

**************

“Alright Malfoy, and only because this may be the best cake I’ve ever had in my life.” She groaned in near orgasmic pleasure. Feeling quite a bit better now that the pills, Malfoy’s transfigured heating pad, and the cake were on the battlefront, she asked, “What is your magical approach to succeed where Pansy failed?”

“Number one.” He smirked, setting down his plate and moving to discuss business. “You already like her cause. You wanted better wizard-muggle integration and you know the hardest demographic to crack is that of the Sacred 28. Pansy is part of that circle and her fashion line would be on our radar immediately, and we may be more receptive to purchase something from one of our own. Furthermore, you will not be surrounded by models. This is a campaign entitled The ‘Parkinson Witch.’ We are scouting professional athletes, potions masters, book authors. You are the ‘Parkinson Witch’ regardless of what you say. You are famous Granger and your face sells products. Even if people do not purchase the clothes they will hear about the cause of intelligent, forward-thinking witches and be better for it.” 

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. The line had a great vision. She would love to meet the women he talked about, and Draco did have a point. “I don’t have time, to be honest.”

“Two Saturdays in July are all you need to commit to. There is this muggle saying I think fits here. ‘Clothes maketh the man.’ Granger, you want to make something of the world, let Pansy help you by being the face of the campaign. Her fashion tagline is ‘what will you make today?’” He paused moving to stand up and walk away.

He was right. Wait, _Malfoy was right?_ Standing up from her desk Hermione said, “Wait, I’ll do it. But just the one campaign.” 

Looking over his shoulder he smirked devilishly and gave a salute. “Welcome aboard Miss Granger. We’ll see you then.”

Slumping in her chair Hermione tried to decompress before shouting out, “Wait we?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always love your thoughts comments questions or queries ^^.


	3. Off My Bloody Broom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Draco is a fairytale and Hermione is Cinderella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my best beta missELY.

“I have come back victorious. Your king has conquered again.” Draco chuckled, setting the bottle of scotch he had brought from the manor on the table like it was a golden chalice. 

“No fucking way! You got that swotty little Gryffindor to say yes?” Pansy sat up from her relaxed position in an antique armchair in awe; toasting her glass of champagne to him. The three were lounging about in Pansy’s Parlor room. Blaise was closest to Draco as he was stood by the fire.

“He’s the king for a reason, Pansy. Why do you think we called him Draco the Conqueror?” Theo teased lightly, laying over a couch like a pampered cat.

“We called him that because there wasn’t a bird in Ravenclaw or Slytherin he couldn’t get to drop their knickers and call him my lord.” Blaise snickered while patting the blond roughly on his back.

“Blaise, must you be so crass?” Pansy pouted.

“Oh I remember, you preferred to call him daddy.” Blaise bit back just as fast.

“Enough!” Draco hissed, banging the bottle on the table like it was a gavel. “We aren’t school children anymore and I’d like to enjoy myself in the present. Not hear about my antics as a boyish youth.”

“Awe, but we love your boyish antics Draco. Shall we sing a bit of  _ Weasley Is Our King _ just for fun?” Theo toyed, sitting up lazily to make room for Draco.

“We might have to start pretending to like the Weasel if Granger is to be one of my clients.” Pansy chided, grabbing the bottle from Draco and pouring them all a glass.

“I made no promises on the Weasel, Pans. I got Granger to sign and I’ll be approving of the miracle your hair and makeup team have to commit to getting her camera ready, but Weasley is fair game. And Nott—“ Draco turned sharply as he sat down next to Theo.

“Yes my lord?”

“Grow the fuck up,” he spat with a shove.

“I shan’t. I shall be a boy forever. The boy who never grew up. Just like that lovely muggle story, what was it?” He questioned, looking around the room for help.

“It’s Pan, Peter Pan.” Draco droned in response, sipping from the scotch with a sigh.

“Since when did you learn so much about muggle literature? Is he a squib author like Shakespeare?” Blaise questioned lightly.

“Honestly, I bet Draco read the story in secret. You did  _ always _ have your head in a book.” Pansy guessed.

“It’s about a boy who flies and charms pretty girls and mermaids. He fights pirates and has a band of loyal followers. It’s probably Draco’s favorite childhood fairytale.” Theo chuckled, before taking a long gulp of the Whiskey.

“I read it in Azkaban,” Draco said softly. The room was quiet after that, no one talked about Draco’s time there. He wasn’t the only one in their year to have been on the side of the Dark Lord. He wasn’t the only one who had to do shady things under orders from their parents. But Draco was the only one of them with the Dark Mark, and he was the only one of them who went to Azkaban.

“Don’t be such wet blankets, I’m out now and it’s fine. Potter actually gave me books.” He tried to laugh it off with another sip of whiskey. “Saint Potter, even to his enemies, was raving about how I shouldn’t have been in Azkaban. That I was a minor, that six months was far too long and that I shouldn’t even have been there in the first place.” Draco paused, thinking that the story he told was enough for them to move on. Seeing the concerned faces of his friends Draco realized he had never talked about his time in Azkaban. They deserved to know something more.

“So he did what Potter does best. Broke the rules. He started visiting me a bit and we’d play games of Table Quidditch. Then he asked if I had anything to read—which obviously I didn’t in that hell hole—so he said he’d get me books. The ministry were right prats about it and sent me only muggle books,  _ children’s  _ muggle books.” Draco rolled his eyes at the memory. 

“I swear I was second in our year for nearly our entire run at Hogwarts. I had read and comprehended the journals of Nicolas Flamel at 13. I could fucking quote Shakespeare and Dostoyevsky by heart at 17. Then those ministry fools send me  _ Peter Rabbit _ and  _ Mary Poppins _ . Honestly, getting something as complicated as  _ Peter Pan _ was a blessing.” He scoffed downing his drink only for Pansy to quickly refill his glass.

“Now Pansy, we’re all at your bloody house, what game are we playing?” Draco huffed, eager to change the topic.

“Yes, yes. Well, I thought it’s been a long time since we’ve played Exploding Snap. I feel a Bavarian Circle would be best, yes?” She answered quickly, moving to the floor to rest on her plush rug.

“Well aren’t we our child selves today after all Pans?” Blaise chuckled and moved to the floor with her, Theo and Draco following suit.

“Merlin Pans, we haven’t played this game since we were in Hogwarts.” Draco shook his head but motioned for her to deal out the cards regardless.

“Everyone watch out for your eyebrows.” Theo laughed and stuck his tongue out at Blaise. Everyone then proceeded to burst out laughing, Blaise himself included.

“That was one fucking time Nott!” Blaise roared in response, a huge grin on his face regardless.

“And I’ll remember it until my dying breath,” Theo responded with a hand over his heart.

********************

“So you said yes after all?” Ginny giggled, lounging on the floor of Hermione’s bedroom with a bottle of wine and a copy of Witch Weekly between them,

“Yes, I did some thinking and Draco really did make some great points,” Hermione stated before seeing the shocked look on Ginny’s face. Her mouth was wide open and she seemed to have been stupified by Hermione’s comment.

“Wait did you just say Draco?” Ginny asked, attempting to shut her mouth. “As in Poncey Ferret Malfoy? Since when are you on a first-name basis with him?”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t even realize I called him that. No matter, he’s still a prat. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Uh-huh, so did he look good?” Ginny probed pretending to read the magazine.

“I suppose, I mean, I think he’s been doing ok.” Hermione shrugged and took a sip of wine.

“Not that! Though Harry will be happy to know he’s doing alright. I meant did he look  _ good _ ? Did he look as fit as he does on Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Eligible Wizards’ list?” She teased, opening the page which featured Malfoy and roughly a dozen other wizards from various industries. 

“I don’t know. He was dressed nicely, but he always dresses nicely. I don’t really know what you want me to say.” Hermione shrugged again and tried to see if she could recognize any of the other faces.

“Merlin girl, do you need glasses too? Is Harry rubbing off on you that much?! If it wasn’t because the man is finer than silk and richer than sin, then what  _ exactly _ did he do to get you to call him Draco?” Ginny asked frustrated, slapping the article down on her lap.

“He fed me cake,” Hermione answered timidly.

“Woah, Woah, Woah. What kinky shit did he do to you?” Ginny moved to look at Hermione’s face. An excited grin spreading across freckled cheeks.

“Oh my god! You and your mind go crazy sometimes, no! We didn’t do anything raunchy. He saw I was feeling peaky from my period and he bought me carrot cake and transfigured a heating pad for me. You know my magic gets kinda wonky the week of.” Hermione huffed and patted her cheeks; feeling a blush coming on at Ginny’s accusations.

“Well look at that. The Slytherin Prince has a heart and a brain.” Ginny said softly, a look of awe on her face.

“I suppose all he needs is courage, but I suppose he can go to the wizard for that.” Hermione chuckled.

“What wizard?” Ginny asked, confused.

“Oh, it’s a movie. Called the—“ Hermione started before seeing Ginny’s bored expression. “It’s a muggle movie.”

“Thank you, anyway, it’s a good thing you said yes so I can too.” Ginny chuckled and turned the page of the magazine to look at summer trends.

“Wait, what? Pansy asked you too?”

“Well don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I had a really good season with the Harpies last year. Plus, being The Chosen One’s girlfriend tends to be good publicity. It’ll up my star power and re-signs are coming up in September.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“No, no, you’re right Ginny. It’ll be good for your reputation to be seen as having sponsorship deals. Plus, it’ll be nice working together right?” Hermione tried to soften her comment as Ginny didn’t seem happy with Hermione’s initial reaction.

“Yeah, can’t wait to see what Pansy Parkinson tries to put you in.” Ginny giggled, punching her shoulder.

“Ow! You hit like an ogre.” Hermione groaned, rubbing her arm lightly.

“And you whine like a Harpy, now pass the wine, Granger.”

“Yes, Weasley.”

********************

He wore Dragon glass cufflinks; a silk tie from the finest shop in Japan. His suit today was a charcoal black; three-piece and tailored to fit him like a glove. The grey of his shirt was an exact match of his eyes. A simple flick of his hair and he could honestly say he looked drop-dead gorgeous. 

“You may have been a bastard Lucius, but you knew that clothes meant power. A Malfoy’s gotta look good.” He chuckled, adjusting his tie before adding on his robes. 

Walking towards his fireplace, he grabbed his bag and called out. “Parkinson’s Fashion House.”

He called them The Harpies; and just like the quidditch team, he had to use all of his resources to ensure they were happy, working, and—off his fucking broom. As soon as he walked in the door one was already on him. 

“Ah, Mary-Ann, so happy you could make it from Paris. Are the fittings going well?” He smiled pulling on the Malfoy charm for the French model. Leggy and blonde, she would look good on his arm if only she had more than half a brain.

“Oh it waz great Monsieur Malfoy. [ Je](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/je) [ suis](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/suis) [ trop](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/trop) [ heureux](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/heureux) d’être [ de](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/de) [ retour](https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/french-english/retour) ." She giggled flipping golden blond hair over some slinky dress Pansy put her in.

“Please, call me Draco ma chéri.” He grinned, pulling up her hand to kiss it lightly; walking away without another word. Draco hated the woman, but she was a top model and charged less than she normally would because she had a crush on him.

Walking into Pansy’s office, he sighed when he found her elbow-deep between some model’s legs, trying to adjust the way a slit fell. Looking around for a spare place to sit he moved some fabric scraps off of a couch cushion and waited for her to finish.

“Mister Malfoy! It’s so nice to see you.” The model turned to look at him, only to be poked by Pansy who was pinning her dress. “Ow!”

“Kiko, if you don’t quit moving I will bloody body bind you. Malfoy what do you want? I’m kinda busy.” Pansy groaned with straight pins in her mouth. 

“We have a financials meeting, Pansy dear. Why isn't one of your dressers doing this fitting?” Draco asked with a roll of his eyes, moving to grab a stray copy of The Daily Prophet that was on her desk.

“Because Kiko is wearing a ballgown perfect for the Greengrass’s Charity Ball they hold every August. I expect sales to be through the roof if we launch the campaign and the catalog to The Sacred 28 by July.” She explained and finished pinning the hem before standing and looking at the gorgeous Japanese model. 

“Mister Malfoy, how do I look?” Kiko asked softly, turning to pose in the garment.

Putting the paper down, he looked at the dress. It was a beautiful shimmer of emerald green. The woman shifted and you could see Pansy had enchanted the fabric to look as if she was in the middle of transforming into a green scaly creature. It had a high neckline and a deviously low back. The slit at the front gave Draco just a hint of milky white legs.

“Delicious,” he decided with a smirk on his face. “Pans, you’ve outdone yourself. I foresee every Slytherin girl invited wanting to claim the dress. The Greengrass girls included.” Standing up, he grasped Kiko’s hand and helped her off the platform and out of the office. 

“Thank you for coming Kiko, please have Jasper get you out of the dress and have Mitsy schedule you for your shoot when the final touches are done.” He smirked before letting the model out of the office and it transformed into a scowl.

“I hate models, Pans. Why did you schedule this bloody meeting on a major fitting day?” He whined slightly. Pansy cleaned up her sewing supplies and sat down.

“Because we’re on a deadline with no room to swing a Kneazle. I’m sorry to ruin your busy schedule of doing  _ what  _ exactly?” Pansy glared at him as she looked at her already overwrought schedule.

“Pansy, I’m here to make sure you don’t just make this fashion line look like some cute little hobby you’re doing before you become my or Blaise’s wife.” Draco reminded her, pulling out the files for Parkinson’s this quarter.

“I’ve been planning to take over for Malfoy Holdings since I was 15. Lucius always said I had an eye for business. I’ve managed to keep my estate ticking  _ and _ become an Auror. Now, are you going to listen to me and have a career, or do you want to continue having a rich woman’s hobby?” He sighed, flipping to the right page and giving her a look, as he did expect an answer.

Huffing slightly she nodded and looked at the game plan for the next four months, starting with their major campaign that would start shooting in July. “So we know you acquired the potions master Fawn Fenrir and Granger.”

“And you’ve secured the Weasley Quidditch player and the writer Candlenut.” He added that, crossing them off his list.

“I think I can get an in with Victoria Drabek, that vampire pop star that’s blown up. Her manager just needs to confirm the later date in July.” Pansy added, pursing her lips in thought. “All that’s left is—“

“She’s taken care of.” Draco finished for her.

“No! Draco you couldn’t have. When did you secure the supermodel Nova?” Pansy asked, shocked.

“She’s an old friend. We have history.” He chuckled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I called in a favor and she said she’d be happy to help.”

“Nova Avery. Wow. Didn’t their family move to the States after the First War?” She asked, shocked that all of their stars seemed to have been corralled.

“Yes, but not until she was ten. Severus was my godfather and he and her father were very good friends. She would often visit in the summers.” He tried to sound disinterested in their connection.

“Nova Avery and Draco Malfoy. I’m honestly surprised your mother didn’t set you two up immediately. She even has a star name like your mother likes so much.” Pansy laughed but quieted down at the dark look Draco had in his eyes.

“Pansy, for your own good, drop any notion that Nova and I are anything more than passing acquaintances,” Draco answered firmly, in a tone he hadn’t used since the Dark Lord was having meetings in his dining room. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be as silent as a dementor about it.” She pouted through her answer; clearly upset at not uncovering the gossip between the two. “So what’s next  _ Mister _ Malfoy?”

“We keep these girls in the news. Take them to lunch with the right people. Make sure they’re at the right parties. Remind the press why they’re so important so that when we launch everyone knows we have the biggest names in every industry.”

Looking over the bios for each of the girls she and Malfoy wanted for the campaign, she nodded in agreement. “That shouldn’t be too hard for most of these people. Weasley is all over the sports pages after her incredible run last season. Candlenut and Drabek are on press tours already for their own projects. Nova couldn’t keep her name out of a tabloid if she tried.”

“Yes, it seems our only wallflowers are Granger and Fenrir,” Draco observed flipping through the articles about each of the girls.

“Flip you to see who has to give Granger a social life?” Pansy teased holding up a Galleon.

“I call heads.”

********************

It was roughly two weeks later when Hermione spotted Draco in her office with a garment bag in his hands. Looking up at her from the chair he was sitting in he grinned and held out the item.

“Get dressed Granger, we’re going on a date.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Hermione asked tersely before moving to sit down at her desk. She had just gotten out of a rather tense meeting about Gringott's security measures and she was not in the mood for his antics. 

“You haven’t been in the paper in weeks. Every other candidate has at least a passing example of a social life. I’m trying to make Pansy’s line launch with a bang, and you need to remind the people who the Golden Girl is.” He gave her a look that seemed equal parts calculating and judgmental. 

“I think that is the most pompous, arrogant, self-centered way someone’s  _ ever _ asked me on a date, Malfoy. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you. Let alone at some posh cafe sipping champagne and eating Niçoise salads.”

“Granger, number one, that is a delicious light lunch selection and I’m half surprised you had the breeding to recommend it. Number two, it’s not just with me, it’s with friends I think you’d enjoy. A luncheon of the minds. My friend and I get together on occasion to talk academics, and once in a while, we invite a guest. Mr. Longbottom was so excited that you were to be in attendance with him and my friend.” Draco grinned viciously and held the bag out for her again.

She had been meaning to visit Neville. With him teaching at Hogwarts she hardly had time to see him outside of the summer. She was hungry and it would be so nice to see him again. On the other hand, it was a lunch with Draco Malfoy of all people.

“Who’s the other friend Malfoy?” She asked hesitantly.

“Theodore Nott. He was Slytherin our year but he kept to himself in school. I honestly think you two would like each other. You’re both little bookworms and have an incessant need to chatter on without end.” He laughed, shaking the bag slightly. 

“And you like this Nott?” She asked slowly, holding out her hand for the dress.

“He’s my best mate… don’t tell Zabini, or Pansy, or Potter for that matter, he may even feel a little put out.” He winked at her and opened the bag to show her the dress.

The dress was an elegant deep green. It had sleeves that trailed around her elbows and were pointed at the ends like leaves. The bust was much more plunging than she was used to, but the structure seemed to hold itself up, and the fabric when she touched it was soft and familiar. The hem was respectable enough and flared out in similar leaf-like points. 

“Green?” She chuckled with a raised eyebrow. 

“I said white, but Pansy makes all her important pieces green. Consider yourself special Granger. Now get dressed and give me a shout if something doesn’t fit right.” He turned to step out of the office and left her to change.

***

“Malfoy!” Hermione said a bit later, frustrated and angry. The dress fit like a glove down her arms and around her hips but it was just a bit too difficult to tie the corset straps on the back of it herself.

Stepping in and seeing her frustration Malfoy chuckled and stood behind her. “I see you needed my assistance. Do you not know the charm for corset strings?” He teased, grabbing each of the ribbons and proceeding to pull and tie the back of the dress with practiced ease.

“How do you know how to do this?” She asked with strained breath as she slowly felt herself being constricted by the boning in the dress.

“I used to watch my mother get dressed for the balls we would have at the manor. You know Granger there is a magic to women when they get all dolled up. It’s something all women do, regardless of whether they’re muggle or vampire, witch or fairy. I would watch my mother turn into something regal, and powerful, and commanding. I had pinned the moment she gained this special power when she was fit into her dress. You stand straighter in a corset Granger, you automatically command more power. What is more Malfoy-like than to want to figure out this power for myself?” He considered her finished and transfigured a plant into a mirror for her to look at.

“Now look at that, wait, one final touch.” He pulled a green hairpin from a small pocket of the garment bag and with a flick of his wand he pinned back a bit of her hair so it was out of her face. “Now you look like a woman worthy of the title of Order of Merlin, First Class.” He placed both hands on her shoulders and gave her a moment to look at herself.

The dress brought out the olive tones in her skin, and with her hair pulled back she could see the lines of her shoulders, the curves of her bust down to a waist that looked smaller than she had ever seen it. 

“I know. Pansy does good work, doesn’t she Granger? Now let’s go.” He smirked and stood up tall to walk out of her office.

They had successfully walked out of the Ministry of Magic and down a corner that held the passageway for Wizarding London when Hermione heard a sharp flash.

“Oh, my word! Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger together! This is breaking news!”

  
  
  



	4. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner... Well Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where They Talk About Yacht Club and French Girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY

Draco and Hermione had successfully walked out of the Ministry of Magic and down a corner that held the passageway for Wizarding London when Hermione heard the snap of a camera.

“Oh my word, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, together! This is breaking news!”

Hermione loathed Rita Skeeter with a fiery passion. It had started with the entire debacle during the Triwizard Tournament and followed her through most of her life post the war. However, Rita’s most egregious affront was her rather excessive coverage of every moment of her and Ron’s breakup. There had been 8 months of beautiful silence from the reporter, but the time apart didn’t make Hermione any more able to deal with the screechy blonde politely. Hermione was just about to tear the woman a new one when she felt Draco’s hand on her waist and heard him speak up.

“Rita darling, you’re getting ahead of yourself. I thought I was madly in love with Astoria Greengrass; or am I still in that tawdry affair with Pansy Parkinson? No, I think your last statement was that I was courting Fawn Fenrir. It wouldn’t be fair to your readers if you gave me  _ another _ woman to be within the span of a month.” He smiled softly as if to contradict the sickly-sweet way he dismissed her. 

Moving past the woman, Draco led Hermione into the busy midday streets of Diagon Alley. 

“Thank you, she generally gets me on my bad side so I’ve never been able to  _ graciously _ tell her off,” Hermione uttered, looking up at him. 

Draco looked down at her before chuckling and looking back up. He continued moving them through the streets, heading into a more recently built part of Wizarding London. The buildings were brighter and more modern than the classic architecture of Diagon Alley. Hermione soon recognized this area as a neighborhood popular for its restaurants.

“Don’t thank me. She’ll still post the picture, she just won’t outright accuse us of dating,” he mused turning towards a corner bistro that was filled with well-to-do witches and wizards. The people there were sipping tea, having brunch, and generally looking like images from the pages of the Parisian fashion magazine Enchanté. 

Turning to look at the tables on the patio she noticed the long and broad physique of her fellow Gryffindor Neville. Next to him was a man who at first glance could have been a relative of Harry's. The two stood to greet her and Hermione noticed he was tall; although less so than Neville and Draco, who were both over six feet. He had thin, angular features, but large green eyes that made him seem boyish. He had dark shaggy hair that was cropped short on the sides and just like Harry he wore round wire-rimmed glasses. However, his were larger and gold in color which made the spectacles seem higher-end and fashionable. He was dressed fashionably to the point of looking like he bought his clothes straight from the runway. He mixed the patterns and accessories on his suit with a chaotic yet tasteful eye. The contrast between Theo’s clothing and Neville’s simple white button-down and beige blazer was rather comedic. 

“Theodore Nott, Jr., if you will.” Theo introduced himself with a flourish of his hand. It grasped hers and pulled it in for a gentle kiss before releasing her. “I’m rather excited to meet the Golden Girl. I’ve heard so many fabulous stories about you between dear Neville and Draco here.” He chuckled and Hermione swore she could see the mischief in his eyes.

“All good things Hermione, I promise… well except for the time you petrified me first year.” Neville grinned and Hermione turned to properly face the Gryffindor. 

Moving to hug her old friend tightly Hermione smiled widely.

“Neville, it’s been too long. You never come down to London. The first time I see you in months and it’s because two Slytherins brought you here.” She teased and the small blush on Neville’s face made her happy that she could still chide him in jest.

“I’m sorry Hermione. You know me, I'm a homebody. Theo and Draco have manors full of gardens to tempt me into leaving the greenhouses. I don’t think you even own a cactus.” He teased and motioned for her to sit down. Hermione was surprised that Draco seamlessly pulled out her chair for her and only after she was sitting down did he join her side. 

A waiter came up shortly and took their orders. Theo ordered a bottle of champagne, under claims of celebrating inter-house unity, and Draco even ordered the Niçoise salad. He gave her a knowing look as she fought back a smile and ordered the salmon. 

“So, have you three gotten together often?” Hermione asked after the bottle of champagne was popped and her glass was filled. “I didn’t know you two knew Neville.”

“Well, Draco and I have known each other casually since we were four. My gran and his mom were in the same social club.” Nevile answered simply, as if that explained everything.

“Social club? Like lords and ladies?” Hermione asked, wondering if there was such a thing in Wizarding culture.

“Not so much Granger, but honestly only the best of families could get into the Morgana Tea Society. Although Nott and I are just about of age to put our bid in at the Merlin Yacht Club.” Draco explained further with a wink to Theo.

“Best-of-families?” Hermione asked before a frown fell on her face. “Oh, it’s a pureblood society.”

“Hermione, no, it’s not like that.” Neville started with a wave of his hand; clearly afraid of upsetting her.

“Merlin Granger, being a pureblood doesn’t mean squat if you don’t have the pedigree to match it. Weasleys are as pure as gold and there isn’t a mother in the Morgana Tea Society that would want their daughter to marry one.” Draco said with a roll of his eye and a sip of his champagne.

“What my dear friend was trying to say, Miss Granger, was that there is a lot more to being in the high society of Wizarding culture than just being a member of the Sacred 28. While that certainly helps, there are so many more things. It’s what house you were in. It’s what charities you support; what galas you attend; what tutors your children have; what social clubs you can get into. Draco has more money than you could possibly believe and there is nothing he could do to get into the Godric Gryffindor Golf Club.” Theo said as he moved to clean his glasses.

“Hermione, the same goes for me trying to get into the Asp Garden Club. I still don’t think it’s fair you serpents have the best greenhouses.” Neville teased with a smile. Hermione was shocked to see Neville insult, anyone, even in jest.

“And you and I both would eat our wands to be in the Rowena Book Club Neville, but that’s neither here nor there now is it?” Draco shot right back. 

Hermione could honestly say she was shocked. The group had just named half a dozen societies, clubs, and groups that she had never once heard of. It was like peeking behind a curtain to see an entire Wizarding world beneath the Wizarding world. 

Shaking her head at the thought, Hermione paused and asked, “Rowena Book Club?” 

“It’s like a personal invitation to every restricted section in the oldest of all libraries. Ravenclaw exclusive, though you may be the first outsider to get a bid. You should ask Chang for an invite. I heard it through the Devil’s Snare that she just got initiated.” Draco whispered to the table.

“That little siren! How dare she be the first to get initiated in a society?” Theo exclaimed as he leaned into the table.

“A Ravenclaw is the first to enter adult society. I feel ashamed for all of us.” Neville smiled as he shook his head.

“Wait, wait, wait, there is no way that Chang is the first. Granger, you’re telling me you or Potter haven’t gotten  _ any _ invitations?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“I  _ honestly _ have no idea what you’re talking about. And I don’t keep up with Harry’s mail but he really isn’t fond of fancy gatherings or society get-togethers.” She stammered and then frowned; angry at being tongue-tied by finding something about the magic world she knew so little about.

“Wait, Draco love, that’s our in!” Theo grinned widely looking at Draco with a knowing eye.

“What do you mean Nott? I’m not in the mood to legimens you right now.” Draco said but waved his hand around for Theo to continue. 

“Wait Malfoy, doesn’t your dad have a table at the Merlin Yacht Club?” Neville asked slowly; starting to get Theo’s idea.

“Yes, but I don’t have access to the regattas or supper clubs without a bid.” Draco answered grumpily. 

Though, he paused the action of crossing his arms when Theo said, “But you can eat lunch.”

“And invite guests,” Draco smirked.

Neville waved his hand around before motioning to Draco. “So you simply invite Potter, Nott and I for lunch or whatever,” 

“Under the guise of an alumni reunion,” Theo added.

“Something all of our fathers and grandfathers have been doing since we were toddlers,” Draco agreed as his smile got wider.

“The big-wigs see _The_ Harry Potter and start to wonder why they don’t have The Chosen One in the oldest wizard society club in Europe,” Theo said with a finger pointed at his head in faux thought.

“So they offer him an invitational bid, but since he’s at  _ your _ table Malfoy...” Neville continued.

“They’d have to offer it to at least me, if not the whole table!” Draco finished with a wild grin. Hermione giggled at the three boys eagerly scheming to get into something they’d seen all their fathers, uncles and grandfathers be a part of.

“Something funny Granger?” Draco asked with a small sneer when he saw her giggle.

“No no. It’s just silly that you three are so into some stupid club. What does it matter?” She asked, trying to cover her smile with her hand.

“Poor, poor Granger, being a muggle-born really has put you at a disadvantage. The last five heads of departments for the ministry were made at Ollivander Galas,” Draco cooed at her condescendingly. 

“The last three St. Mungo’s heads were at the Abbott summer regatta,” Theo added.

“And three of the last four head editors of The Daily Profit were rumored to have been chosen at the Malfoy New Years Ball,” Neville said softly.

“Granger, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Draco asked honestly and Hermione looked up at him with a determined look.

“Minister of Magic… Eventually, that is,” She finished weakly.

“Well, Granger you won’t get further than a quill dipper in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures without an invitation to at least one of those parties. Invitations only given out at the various tea parties, yacht clubs, and social gatherings. Politics are people,” Draco smirked and placed a hand on her chin only for Hermione to swat it away with a frown.

Ignoring her swat, Draco continued his point. “Nott’s family used to be the head of the Department of Mysteries for decades till Nott Sr. came around.” 

“The Longbottoms have basically run St. Mungos for as long as I can remember,” Theo added with an apologetic face.

“It’s the world’s worst kept secret that the Malfoy’s own all of the media in the UK,” Neville said with a chuckle.

“I don’t own  _ all _ of it Longbottom,” Draco argued.

“But your cousin on your dad’s side is editor-in-chief of The Daily Profit, right?” Neville asked with a raised eyebrow. Draco nodded.

“And your mother is on the board of directors for Witch Weekly?” Theo winked as Draco nodded again.

“And isn’t the Black family one of the original founders of the WWN?” Neville questioned only to see Draco slowly nod his head again.

“So no one becomes a healer without Neville’s Uncle’s say so. You couldn’t do better in an interview for the Department of Mysteries if you had drunk Felix Felicis than with my family's name attached, and aside from the Quibbler, nothing goes to print that Draco doesn’t want,” Theo summarized with a shrug.

Hermione was irritated, to say the least, at this discovery. But at the same time, there was a part of her that was excited. She had spent the past five years since the war with no mysteries to solve. No secrets to uncover. No more hidden things to find. She had always loved putting all the pieces together and this idea of the society circles that the Wizarding World lived around seemed to scratch an itch in her she had long forgotten she had.

Seeing the natural pause in the conversation, and the arrival of food, Draco waved his hand as if to brush away the conversation.

“Enough of all that. While that was a bit of enlightening information for Granger here, we aren’t gathered together to talk about the impact of being a Malfoy, or about whichever idiots haven’t made sure The Golden Trio got invitations to the right parties. We’re here to talk about a  _ different  _ dirty little rumor. What is it you know about the Indicum Shimmer?” Draco said ominously; though the smile on his face led her to believe he was actually excited.

“The Indicum Shimmer, The Shimmering Indigo?” Hermione asked, thinking about the Latin translation.

“It’s supposed to be a poison, or maybe a plant that kills its victims via touch. It turns their skin into this really pretty purple shimmer, like an oil slick.” Neville explained to her.

“Rumor has it that in the underground circuit someone has managed to turn it into a fabric dye. Its effects are delayed and, besides the color on their skin, which looks like a stain, there are no symptoms. No one knows exactly why these people die once they touch Indicum Shimmer.” Theo added. 

Hermione finally saw what Draco meant about a meeting of the minds. They all had their strengths and they, in the comfort that the mystery was not about them, could chat, and attempt to solve whatever problem arose.

“There can’t be zero symptoms of death. Cardiac arrest, suffocation, there must be something right?” Hermione questioned as her mind ran through various ways poisons killed people.

“You would think. But there’s no sign of heart failure. The lungs are in perfect condition. Brain functions seem fine. It’s like it turns a person off.” Neville bit his lip after in thought and Hermione was all the more hooked.

“So, I heard from a distant family member that there was a case of this in Paris not too long ago. Some rich heiress found dead in her ballgown. Her hands had this shimmery purple tint.” Draco added, pulling a French newspaper article from his jacket pocket.

“Wicked.” Theo moved to grasp the article and read through it quickly, lingering over the pictures provided.

“So why do you think she was offed?” Neville asked as he was given the article and Hermione bristled a bit at the fact that she seemed to be the only one at the table not fluent in French.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Draco raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“Money.” Theo and Draco answered simply and Hermione received the article. Trying to remember what French she did know she could gather the woman was young, and courting to be married. She was the eldest of three sisters.

“So which sister wanted the money more?” Hermione asked, assuming that if the cause of death was about money, and the pictures showed the family having been clearly wealthy, it had to be about an inheritance. 

“Wouldn’t it be the middle sister? Second in line to the fortune she now takes the majority of the fortune.” Theo guessed grabbing the paper again to view the family photo in the article. “You know I do love how odd French inheritance rules are. Bastards can claim titles. Inheritances are not given out equally but in percentages based on the order of birth.”

“Why do you care so much, Theo? We both are sole heirs to our family lines. Not to mention you  _ aren’t _ French.” Draco narrowed his eyes in confusion before continuing.

“Anyway, You would think the middle sister would have the most motive, but the middle sister was already engaged to be married to some extremely well off Austrian fellow. Bloke has more money than I do and  _ that’s _ saying something,” Draco said with a raise of an eyebrow as Neville was passed the paper and it continued to be given around the table in quick succession.

“So the third sister would want to poison her older sister for the fortune. Hoping that the middle sister, as executor of the fortune would take pity on her baby sister and leave her the fortune.” Neville hypothesized while Hermione was given the paper to peruse. 

The family portrait was odd. It was the parents and the three sisters smiling for a portrait as they shuffled around and adjusted collars. The youngest sitting in an armchair with the middle child sitting on an armrest. The parents were standing behind the chair with the eldest standing to the left. The eldest child seemed to have a strained smile, and something about it bothered Hermione. 

“What if neither of the sisters killed her?” She started looking at the death photo again.“What if the eldest sister wanted to kill her younger sister, but accidentally killed herself in the process?”

“Why would she desire to kill the youngest sister?” Neville asked with a curious look on his face.

“Because she doesn’t. However, she has every reason to kill her middle sister.” Draco chuckled at Hermione's response; looking at her with a smirk. 

“Clever girl Granger. I see you saw the family drama. I thought this mystery seemed a little too open and shut for me, so I asked my cousin what they knew of the sisters. Turns out,” he started pulling out a few photos from society pages of a Parisian newspaper, “the middle sister was a golden girl in her own right.”

The photos were of the middle sister playing quidditch for Beauxbatons, winning awards in dueling competitions, and the aforementioned engagement to the Austrian wizard. 

“Wow, even I feel a little jealous of this girl.” Hermione looked at the photos with a bit of awe.

“Don’t, you always beat me in school, and I refuse to be third in impressiveness. But yes, little miss second born was always the shining star. Even first to walk down the aisle. Did you know that that Austrian fellow and the elder sister apparently used to date? Rather strange that he’s marrying the middle one.” Draco said matter-of-factly and Hermione saw as Theo and Neville caught on.

“She always had to have the spotlight,” Theo caught on slowly.

“But the eldest sister couldn’t bear to have her sister take her lover,” Neville added in awe.

“Exactly. I’m to assume sister number one wanted to poison sister number two before she could marry the bloke but got a little hasty with the process. That or a leak in the vile caused her to become contaminated/exposed without knowing it.” Draco concluded with a bite of his salad, happy to have sent the trio on a light mental jog.

“But is it true?” Hermione asked between bites of salmon.

“Fuck if I know. I’m not in French law enforcement. I’m not even in English law enforcement at the moment. But I’m pretty happy with my hunch.” Draco shrugged and continued to eat.

“But we don’t know if that’s the right answer. We don’t know who really killed the eldest sister? Or really anything about Indicum Shimmer. That could turn into a really dangerous problem,” Hermione said, increasingly exasperated. 

“And none of that is currently our problem. Granger, sometimes it’s enough to only know part of the mystery. It was a fun journey trying to put together the section of the puzzle we have, yes?” Draco turned to her and placed his hand softly hand on top of hers.

“Sometimes it’s best just to have your guess be good enough. You don’t always get to know if your answer is right.” He finished and removed his hand from hers, leaving a light tingle behind that surprised Hermione.

Theo and Neville seemed content to leave the story at that. A story about a girl they didn’t know, in a country they didn’t live in, with a problem they had no reason to solve. It left a sour taste in Hermione’s mouth to leave something unfinished, but she was outnumbered in her opinion. 

The rest of the lunch turned out decent enough and Hermione was surprised to find out how charming Draco could be when he wasn’t spending all of his time torturing her. He would let other people talk, he could be really witty, and he seemed to be able to take as many jokes as he gave. It was surprising to see him so relaxed and to see him get on so well with Neville. Soon enough her lunch hour was ending and she stood to leave them.

“I’m so sorry to cut this short but I actually must get back to work.” She apologized and bit her lip at the sight of Theo and Neville stopping their conversation to turn to her.

The three of them stood right after her seemingly on reflex; which only managed to embarrass her more at seeing the chivalry she wasn’t used to experiencing.

“Oh, where are my manners. I’ll escort you back Granger; can’t mess up your perfect attendance.” Draco grinned at her and offered his arm for her to take.

“It’s no trouble. Please, continue your lunch. I’ll just pay and head out.” She tried to say before a snort was heard from Theo.

“Wow Miss Granger, you’re really trying to insult Draco here. Trying to walk back alone  _ and _ offering to pay?” Theo snickered and elbowed Neville in an attempt to get him to join in.

“As much as it annoys me to say this, Theo is right. Granger, I refuse to let you pay and my mother would have my head if she knew I took you to lunch and didn’t safely and securely bring you back.” He bowed slightly and Hermione quickly grabbed his arm, if only for him to stop acting like an Edwardian aristocrat in front of her.

“Okay, fine, fine, you can walk me back, but just this once.” Hermione hissed softly in his ear. Turning towards Theo and Neville, she smiled and said, “Neville it was great seeing you again and it was so lovely to meet you, Theo. I really enjoyed lunch.”

“Yeah ‘Mione it was good to see you.” Neville agreed with a hand behind his neck in a nervous response. 

“Likewise Miss Granger. I believe I will have to see you again before long. You are much too delightful for Pansy and Draco to have you all to themselves.” Theo smiled widely, like the Cheshire Cat himself, and Hermione was made equal parts happy and nervous at his statement.

“Shall we, Miss Granger?” Draco offered with a crook of an eyebrow. “I’ll have you back to your office in the crack of an apparition.” He smirked and Hermione nodded that she was ready; and just like that, they apparated to the designated zone next to the ministry.

“There you are Granger. Got you back in one piece. Now try and keep yourself in the news at least a reasonable amount or I’ll have to kidnap you for another lunch.” He teased her before grasping her hand to give it a light kiss.

“You know Malfoy, instead of kidnapping another invitation would suffice. This wasn’t so bad after all.” Hermione shrugged before looking at the time. “I do need to go though.”

“Yes, yes, Granger, run along clever girl. But, do me a favor and remember what kind of invitations you should want to be receiving, yes? A Parkinson’s witch is always in control of her own story.” Draco offered.

“I’m sure it’s not as easy if we don’t own all the people who write stories.” Hermione offered back, but there was a smile on her face.

Turning to walk away he paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Well, Golden Girl. I guess it’s time you get some friends in high places.” 


	5. Draco Doesn't Share Food.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they sit at a kitchen table and argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY.

Hermione Granger had enjoyed a lovely week. She was happy to have caught up with Neville and was generally surprised at how much she liked talking with Draco and Theo. The two Slytherins were clearly very intelligent and Hermione often was envious of the highly in-depth conversations that were rumored to be commonplace in the Ravenclaw Tower or the Slytherin Dungeons. 

Theo actually seemed to be a rather charming and engaging fellow. Where Draco used harsh remarks and sharp looks, Theo preferred to flirt and act coy. It was a pity he looked so similar to Harry in coloring, or Hermione might have gotten the notion to develop a slight crush on the man. But, he did look like the closest thing she had to a brother. So, she settled on it being a nice introduction to a possible friendship and hoped that he would make good on his promise to see her again.

She even was finally making headway in her position at the ministry. She had officially gotten her Elf Identification Card law passed through preliminary courts and she was now able to request a final vote at Wizengamot. This high held her all the way until Friday evening when she was set to have a nice private weekend with a good book, a glass of wine, and little to no reason to get out of her pajamas.

On Friday morning she even managed to get off work before Harry, although in this day and age that was par for the course. He had been so swamped with cases since Draco had been suspended. Not to mention that the next set of trainees weren’t due to graduate till August. Rumor had it that the Department of Mysteries put a monster of a case on his desk; something Hermione knew was Draco’s main field of expertise. 

She had just finished a nice hot bath and was set to re-read one of her favorites ‘Pride and Prejudice’, in anticipation of the movie coming out the next year, when she heard a tapping on the nearby window sill. Saving the page with a simple black bookmark, Hermione stood up to see a rather luscious-looking black owl. The elegant bird daintily stepped into the living room and she took out an envelope from its beak.

_Dearest Hermione Granger,_

_I have been bewitched by your presence and the thought of going another day without your dulcet tones enlightening me with the knowledge of both the enchanted and magic-less world fills me with a dread worse than a Dementor’s kiss. I am having a little soirée tomorrow night at my manor and would love for you to attend. The theme is ‘A House By Any Other Name’. Neville came up with the idea, isn’t he so clever? He wanted to continue our good-spirited row about house unity and I thoroughly agree. So, please say you’ll attend and give my heart the joy of your company? It’s cocktail attire and starts at 9 pm._

_Ever your humble guide to the dungeons,_

_Theodore Nero Nott Jr._

_P.S. Please don’t feed Delphi, Draco’s elf is making her obese._

Hermione stopped in her path to give the owl some treats and chuckled. The letter was sweet, humorous, and Hermione was tickled pink at being personally invited. Biting her lip, she sent the bird off so she could think more about the invitation before responding.

Hearing the sound of the Floo being run Hermione turned and spotted a redhead coming through.

“Ginny he’s not in yet, but come in! I have something to show you.”

“What is it, Hermione? Something I’d want to see too?” A much deeper voice than the Quidditch player she had expected asked. 

“Ron? Ron! You’re back!” She grinned. She ran up to him and hugged him tightly. 

Ron had originally done the Auror route with Harry, but when a position opened up in the department of Magical Games and Sports both she and Harry had encouraged Ron to make the switch. It was clearly something he was passionate about and it would be nice for him to do something on his own. Something not under the thumb of his family or tied to his friends. He had been traveling with the English Quidditch team as head of security most recently. The team was currently doing the European semi-finals and she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Pulling back to look at her old friend she smiled and sat him down on a chair in the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Harry made Shepherd's pie at like 3 am last night so it’s still pretty good. I swear that boy never sleeps.” Hermione asked while searching through the fridge to see what else they had.

“Oh, I’m fine Hermione, honest. I just came to see you and Harry before I spend the weekend down at the Burrow. It’s a quick Porky to Ireland, so I figured I’d have some fun and visit.” He waved her down and Hermione closed the fridge but moved to the stove.

“Oh, well at least let me make you a cuppa for your troubles. Harry should be home within the hour. If he’s not, I’ll owl him to come right over. It’s been ages since we’ve been together.” Hermione moved to grab a couple of mugs and set the kettle running.

“How is the team anyway? Oliver Wood is still on it, yeah?” She offered, knowing that Quidditch talk was more of a Harry/Ron thing, but she wasn’t one to not try. 

“Yeah he is Hermione, and it’s good. It’s tons of fun being there and getting to see all the matches, making sure the players are safe. It can get crazy. Though not as crazy as what the Daily Prophet says you get up to.” He probed with a raised eyebrow. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, my word Ronald. One lunchtime, get together with Malfoy, Theo, and Neville and you’ll think I’m trying to revive bloody Voldemort or something.” The kettle whistled and she stood up to fix the two cups of tea.

“I didn’t hear anything about you going to lunch with Malfoy, that ferret-faced tosser. The only thing I saw was him helping you cross the street and Rita hinting at you two being closer these days.” He paused to give a nod of thanks at the tea. She sat down in front of him and he added. “I guess she was right after all.”

“Ron, it was just so I’d be in the papers more for Pansy’s bloody fashion line. She wants us all in the papers so that when she launches the campaign everyone is already talking about us.” Hermione rolled her eyes as she sat down with her own cup.

“So you’re going to lunch with Theo Nott and Draco Malfoy and you’re endorsing Pansy Parkinson’s fashion line? I thought when Ginny agreed it was because her agent forced her to. That woman’s a Slytherin through and through. But then I hear you doing all this. What’s next? You tell me you’re going to parties at Blaise Zabini’s house or going shopping with the Greengrass sisters?” Hermione heard a breathy snort from him and her mouth opened in shock.

“Ronald Weasley, I _cannot_ believe you are acting so childish. We were children in school. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that it matters as little what house you were in as it does if you’re pureblood or muggle-born? So what if I want to accept the Parkinson’s endorsement deal? She has a great cause. So what if I wanted to eat lunch with Theo and Malfoy? They are great conversationalists; and even if I’m not going to parties at the Zabini estate, I _did_ get invited to one at Nott Manor and I’m going.” 

Ron sipped his tea and Hermione heard that haughty little snort again. “No, you’re not Hermione. You don’t belong there. Those parties are full of rich people who go to country clubs and talk about the races and all that posh shite.” 

“Ronald, my parents are part of a country club, I actually like going to the races, and who says I don’t belong anywhere?! I was invited personally by the host, so clearly I don’t only belong, I am wanted!” Hermione’s words gained a screechy tone towards the end and she had to turn away from him to relax. 

They always seemed to fight these days. Ever since they broke up. Though, she supposed they fought all the time when they were dating. It just felt hurtful now. It felt like he needed to make her feel lesser. It was so strange that she was discovering the good and gentle sides of people she thought she hated, like Pansy and Draco, while she was seeing more and more of Ron’s thoughtless tendencies. 

The Floo activated again in the living room and Harry shuffled into the kitchen with a yawn. Pausing to look at his two best friends clearly in the middle of a row he yawned again and called out. “What is the issue this time?”

“Oh, Hermione’s just playing with fire trying to go into the serpents den. She’s been hanging out with Nott, Malfoy, and Parkinson.” Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in a way that Hermione had to bite her tongue not to call childish.

“Ron, Malfoy is my partner, or at least he _was_ and he will be again in September. Plus, as I’m pretty sure he just saved my arse, I can’t be one to talk. ‘Mione wins this one.” He shrugged and moved his wand to start a bubbling pot of coffee.

“Yes! Now that that’s settled I just have to send an owl and then we can catch up. Wait, Harry, what did Dr-Malfoy do?” She paused; just barely catching her mix up. She would never hear the end of it if she called Draco by his first name out loud in front of Ron.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a work thing about a case we worked on before his suspension. He had the notes on it, so I just popped over to his place and got them. It’ll really help a case I’m working on now.” Harry motioned to a folder in his hands before moving to put his things up in his room.

“So now Harry’s going over to Malfoy’s place, all chummy. What’s next? Am I gonna start seeing him over here next time I’m in town?” Ron groaned and sipped the tea with a sigh. “Got any firewhiskey? This much talk about my friends hanging out with Slytherins shouldn’t be done sober.” 

Chuckling lightly Hermione moved to grab the bottle and three glasses. She poured him a bit and offered up a cheers as Harry returned in sweats and a Gryffindor T-shirt.

“How about ‘to old friends’ then?” Hermione suggested as an olive branch.

“To old friends.” Ron agreed with a smile.

“Cheers mates.” Harry grinned and the three took the shots with a single gulp.

********************

Draco Malfoy had planned to have an equally relaxing Friday. He had lasted another week without hexing any handsy models. He had successfully kept Malfoy Holdings afloat and without scandal. And he had successfully made a rather delicious loaf of sourdough bread. 

Baking was a hobby that Draco had picked up on during his year of house arrest in the manor. He was sans a wand that year and needed something to do with his hands. He’d always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and the rather meticulous nature of baking made it feel quite similar to potions-making. Draco always had an affinity for potions and picked up on baking like goblins to gold. 

He had just taken out some lovely French cheeses and a bottle of Chardonnay when he heard the Floo. 

“Sweet Salazar Nott, I swear you have the nose of a bloodhound. I don’t know how you always know when I’ve baked something, but this batch is mine. I’m not selling it to you, you can’t make me. I wanted a nice quiet evening to myself.”

“Then I promise to be out of your hair in the flick of a wand,” said a voice that was distinctly not Theo. Draco stepped into his Floo room and spied a moderately disheveled Potter.

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Draco moved to grab his wand only to see Harry wave him off.

“It’s about your uncle. Well, your uncles. We’ve got updates on Rodolphus, but I think it’d be easier to follow a lead I just got about a possible Rabastan hideaway. However, you know them better than I do. I want you to make the call.” 

Draco clenched his jaw tightly at the mention of his deranged uncles. The Lestranges were not ones to be trifled with. Few came out of encounters with them alive; present company excluded. Turning his head to the kitchen Draco walked back into the kitchen and put up the wine, expecting Harry to follow. He replaced the wine with whiskey and two glasses. 

Offering Potter a seat with a silent hand and a poured glass, Draco took his own chair and sighed. “Give me the files. I’m assuming what I’m looking at is highly classified and I’m not supposed to even know about this after what happened?” 

Nodding and sipping the glass offered, Harry handed Malfoy the files on the sightings. Taking the time to notice the simple navy shirt and creme linen pants Draco wore, Harry couldn’t help but think about the stark contrast to the rather buttoned up and layered robes and suits Draco wore as an Auror. 

“Yes, I’m not here. We never met. You are suspended until September. You still think your uncles got away and are completely off the grid?”

“Off the grid?” Draco looked up in confusion. He then double-checked the folders for anything about a grid in the sightings of Rodolphus in Belarus and Rabastan possibly hiding out in Romania. 

“It’s a muggle phrase,” Harry explained, taking another sip and eyeing the delicious-smelling bread that was on the table. “It means to not be traceable by any technology.”

“Got it. Alright so clearly we need to err on the side of caution and approach one of these cases at a time. Especially since I can’t go in with my knowledge of how my uncles like to operate.” Draco breathed heavily through his nose as he held the files up in the air, tracing a pathway of both brothers’ tracks on a mural of Europe he had on a sidewall.

“I’ve got to put one of those up in Grimmauld Place. It’s so bloody useful.” Harry said after another sip and stood to look at the routes. 

“They have similar methods. Rabastan has kids though, even if Avela insists that he has no contact with them anymore. If both have the same probability of being captured, Rabastan may be more willing to talk if he has a lesser sentence or visitation rights for his sons.” 

“I would agree with that.” Harry paused before holding up a toxicology report showing a clean body but an image of a shimmery purple throat. “But Rodolphus is using a new poison. He’s figured out the exact delay of it and has started targeting people. We didn’t realize it was him until this most recent case. The deceased is Casper Crouch. He paid off the ministry and gave up his seat on the Wizengamot in order to stay out of the crimes of his family.”

“Ah, therefore he’s a traitor. No better than me or my family in their eyes. Potter, is that the Indictum Shimmer or just an uncanny resemblance to it?” Draco held the image of the crime scene photo with one hand while swatting Potter’s hand from attempting to take a piece of the bread.

“It’s similar enough at least for us to treat it the same—did you really bake this?—“ Harry questioned while rubbing his hand slightly.

“I did and I’ll let you have _one_ piece if you let me cut it first.” Draco stood and grabbed a serrated knife. He cut off two slices of the bread and placed them on small white plates. 

Draco grabbed a bit of olive oil and vinaigrette to put in a sauce dish as he spoke. “Okay so do we know if the Crouch death had any relation to that French scandal with the sisters?”

“Not that we know of, though my hunch is that it gave Rodolphus an idea.” Harry nodded his thanks as the plates and sauce were dished out. He quickly tore a piece of the still-warm bread and took a bite, sighing in pleasure.

“Relax Potter, it’s just bread. Have you been forgetting things like dinner and sleeping again?” Draco teased as he took a much smaller piece, dipping it lightly in the oil and vinaigrette mixture before popping it in his mouth.

“Okay, _Hermione_. Merlin, you sounded just like her. I’ve been fine but it’s irritating doing this by myself. It’s actually nice to be able to go back and forth with you on this, like usual.” Harry said through bites. Before long the bread was gone.

“Potter, please refrain from comparing me to the swottiest of your bunch. I know intelligence is hard to find in a Gryffindor. Honestly, you come to my house, eat my bread and then you insult me? Some kind of partner you are.” Draco hissed, but the smile on his face contrasted the harshness of his tone. 

“Yeah, yeah, so back to my point. I’m setting up a strike team at the end of the month. Kingsley is hounding me for an arrest. Who do we go for?”

Draco paused and thought. Rodolphus was clearly more dangerous at the moment. With a new and deadly poison, they should be on high alert. However, with no set headquarters they could lose him and scare off Rastaban in the process. Placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on interlaced fingers he decided.

“Rastaban is the clearer target at the moment. If I got suspended for using an unforgivable on him I want him to go to Azkaban.”

“Malfoy, about what happened back in April—“ Harry started.

“Don’t. I told you then, I don’t want to talk about it and I still don’t. Now take these.” Draco grabbed his wand and Accio’d his personal files on the Lestrange brothers. He handed them to Harry along with the rest of the case files.

Seeing that as a clear sign of their meeting being over, Harry stood up to leave, giving Draco a nod of thanks as he walked back to the Floo room. “Thanks, Malfoy. I owe you one, honest.”

“Add it to the list Potter.”

With that, the Floo was heard and Draco sank into his chair practically hearing his mother and tutors scolding him for bad posture. Groaning loudly, he flicked on the WWN to a rock station and tuned out the world while he poured himself another glass of whiskey.

“So much for thinking it was just Theo wanting my bread.”


	6. Hot Ankles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they take a photo.

“Ginny, I can’t wear that.” Hermione shook her head as Ginny pulled out a Prussian blue dress for her to wear. It was the night of Theo’s party and Hermione had owled Ginny to come over with a few outfit options, as she had nothing to wear to a fancy exclusive cocktail party at a mansion.

“Yes, you can. It’ll fit your body like you were born in it and besides, you got invited to a Theo Nott party. Do you even know what goes on at those things? I’m angry. I’m jealous, and I’m not going to let you walk in there looking anything less than stunning.” Pushing the dress, that was nothing but tightly wrapped tulle along her body, towards Hermione. 

“Plus they go with your ‘I’m a grown fucking woman heels.’ You’ve always wanted to wear them and now is your chance.” Ginny added. She grinned and tossed Hermione the tulle dress while she ransacked her closet to find the shoes. Ginny chose some snakeskin heels; dyed the same deep, ashy blue as the dress. They were by far the most ostentatious thing Hermione owned. They were gorgeous and they seemed to tell a story to her; calling out to her in the shop like they were still alive. It was as if the heels were hissing at her to come hither and she felt compelled to purchase them. It was the first pair of shoes she bought just because they were pretty.

“Ginny what if I’m underdressed? You know how posh Draco and his crew always dress. I went to a casual lunch with Theo and he was mixing patterns and colors like he was blind. Yet, it looked purposeful, runway ready. As much as I think the dress is pretty I’m worried it’s much too simple.” She sighed.

Hermione held up the shoes and felt the soft, golden inscription on the side of it. Carpe Noctem. It was a more devious, more salacious phrase than the more common ‘seize the day’. Hermione felt a force of confidence roll through her as she touched the shoes. Maybe she would be okay in the outfit?

“Hermione, the garment is enchanted to fit you like a second skin. Your boobs, your waist, your hips, and your bum will never look better. Draco Malfoy will eat his heart out at the sight of you. I’m sure you would live for giving one last jab at all the names those Slytherins called you back in school.” Ginny raised her eyebrow in that perceptive way she had from knowing Hermione for over a decade. Hermione knew she was unable to say no.

“Fine, but you’re doing my hair, Weasley.” 

*********************

“Remember when I said that Malfoy would eat his heart out when he saw you? Well, I may change the body part he’s going to want to eat, and whose it is.” Ginny chuckled at her own joke before standing Hermione up and turning her to look at herself in the mirror.

Hermione gasped as she felt frozen in her reflection. The dress was wrapped around her from chest to just below the knee. It was a unique mix of so tight she knew it wasn’t going anywhere but not so tight she couldn’t breathe. Magical clothing had a way of doing that. The only thing loose on the dress was the off-the-shoulder pieces of tulle that gave her a look of feigned innocence. Hermione had cleavage for the first time in her life and it was striking. Ginny had covered her body in this golden sparkly oil called ‘Dragon’s Egg Essence’ and it made her shimmer like the sun at dusk was catching it. She had also taken the time to straighten and then re-curl her hair into elegant waves that cascaded over one shoulder. Her makeup was done tastefully; a deep plum lip and a winged eye were all she needed. 

“You did amazing Ginny. But, you do know I don’t have a crush on Draco. Theo invited me and it’s his place. If there should be someone you’re trying to push on me it’s him. Why are you pushing me towards Malfoy?”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny put Hermione’s necessities like her wand, a lipstick, a few hangover potion—and was that a contraceptive potion?—in her purse and handed her with a shawl for warmth before shoving her towards the Floo. They were already running over an hour late.

“Malfoy and you hated each other for nearly a decade. He’s hot, rich and I would bet all of the money in  _ Malfoy’s _ vaults you haven’t had sex since you broke up with my brother.” Ginny smirked and Hermione sighed in defeat. It was a nice thought to know that mutual breakup with Ron was long overdue and that everyone in their circle had practically said the phrase ‘it’s about time’ when they told them.

“Ginny, why him of all people?”

“Because hate sex is sometimes some of the best sex of your life. Now go be a golddigger and get a sugar daddy for me.” She called out before shouting Nott Manor into the Floo and pushing her into it. 

*****************

The Nott Manor Floo room was a statement in traditional English decor. It was full of deep reds and greens. It was decked in hunting memorabilia and it felt very imposing. A particularly nasty-looking deer head seemed to be glaring at her from a sidewall. A rather elderly house-elf popped into her vision and Hermione only just managed not to flinch. 

“May Whispy take your coat miss? The party is just in the larger parlor.” 

Nodding slightly at the elf in a deep ebony pillowcase, Hermione handed him her shawl which disappeared nearly on contact with the elf before being led into the parlor room.

The parlor had clearly been renovated. Stepping into it was like visiting a completely different house. The room was filled with white couches and black granite countertops. It was full of bright, large windows that filled the space with moonlight. It reminded her of a posh celebrity inviting you into their home and you felt safe and relaxed, as if it were more a spa than a home. The parlor was sleek, modern and overwhelmingly inviting. 

The attendees seemed to be mostly Syltherns, from what she remembered of school. Though the number of men and women that looked like they were more suited for her to recognize them from the pages of Vogue than from the halls of Hogwarts was alarming. 

She walked further into the room that was playing a mysterious music with little more than a hypnotic baseline, and she spotted a familiar face. 

“Neville!” Hermione shouted. 

“I didn’t know you would be here! I suppose you and Theo were closer than I realized.” Hermione chuckled and moved to give Neville a hug.

“Twice in the same month Hermione? I don’t think we’ve seen this much of each other since we graduated from Hogwarts. And yeah, you can say Theo and I are close.” He nodded shyly, adjusting the buttons on his dress shirt. 

“That’s nice Neville.” Hermione nodded slowly with a smile. Trying to remember if Neville explained how he knew Nott Jr. 

“I know you said you knew Draco from your gran's tea club, but you said that you and Theo were close. Did you two know each other before?" 

"Not really, I met Theo through Draco one evening when my gran asked me to help Mrs. Malfoy cure a section of trees with wompus sores."

"Oh, so you became friends through Herbology?" 

“No.” Neville shook his head and waved his hands with a laugh. “Theo hates plants to be honest." 

"Um, Quidditch?" Hermione scrunched up her nose in thought, trying to determine what else they would have in common.

"Between you and me, I couldn't care less about the sport." Neville leaned in towards her with a whisper.

"What do you like to do together?” Hermione asked, thoroughly confused.

"Shag mostly, but Theo's great to talk to and he tells wicked stories."

“SHAG?!!!" Hermione was shocked. Not only by the rather blunt statement her friend had given her but that she had known Neville since she was eleven years old and had never had even an inkling of an idea that Neville was into men.

"I thought you were the brightest witch of our age Hermione? It's not like we were hiding the fact that we were together.” He blushed slightly at Hermione’s outburst. She herself was a bit embarrassed though she soon caught a glimpse of a bright yellow blazer and noticed it was Theo.

Neville then stood up straight and they both turned to greet Theo and Draco who were approaching them.

****************

Draco Malfoy hated Theo’s parties. 

Number one they were loud. Number two, they had also gotten such a horrible reputation for being so debaucherous that they were alluded to being little more than an elitist orgy. 

He had been accosted by far too many people who wanted to use him for his family name, his money, and most recently his connections in the fashion industry. He was no stranger to a one night stand with a pretty witch here and there, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight. Having vapid girls come after him acting like they were best friends in Hogwarts was not helping him get into the mood. When nearly all of Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor gave him a wide berth eighth year for being the convicted Azkaban felon, he had pretty much sworn off women from his alma mater. 

Draco, however,  _ loved  _ Theo’s after-parties. 

Those were notoriously exclusive, private affairs, with the best food, women, and wine from around the world. Theo never let Draco attend the latter without lasting at least an hour at the former. He was just about to ask Theo what room he had put the after-party in when he was yanked by his golden tie to look at someone who was talking to Neville. 

“Look at that golden temptress! My god, I knew she was a diamond in the rough, but fuck me with Merlin’s staff, she’s a winner.” Theo gasped out, adjusting the yellow blazer he wore like he had just been thoroughly flustered. Draco fixed his tie and rolled his eyes before moving to appraise Theo’s statement of the best looking girl of the night.

“Well let’s see who the pretty bird is then? If you don’t mind the Crown Prince taking the first stab at her—Holy fuck is that Granger?” Draco would have spit out his drink at that moment if he had one. 

She was dressed in a sinful blue dress that was an exact match for Draco’s own three-piece suit. Who the hell knew she had legs that looked more delicious than a roasted turkey? Who knew she had tits that perky? Who the fuck told her to wear snakeskin stilettos at a party filled with Slytherins?

“Sweet Salazar Draco, look at her. I’d go straight for her, I really would. I don’t ever think I’ve been sexually attracted to shoulders before.” Theo chuckled, running a hand through dark locks as the two reigned in how obviously they were ogling the Gryffindor Princess.

“Nott, you once had sex with a guy because he had what you called ‘hot ankles.’” Draco laughed with him, slowly seeing the humorous irony at whom they were ogling.

“So? You have hot ankles. Draco are you propositioning yourself and  _ finally _ fulfilling my sexual awakening fantasy?”

Draco cringed and motioned for a house-elf to bring him another drink. “Nott. Please stop reminding me that I was the reason you figured out you liked men.” 

Moving towards Hermione and Neville, Theo laughed out and adjusted his persona to that of a gracious host. 

“Draco, when you came back from summer third year, was _ half _ of Slytherins’ sexual awakening; especially when you wore your quidditch uniform. You were the embodiment of sex on legs. Athletic, sweaty, and tall. Men and women swooned for you almost upon instant and I shan’t let you forget it.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at the comment as both men reached the two Gryffindors. They then offered the two small bows of greeting. 

“Nice to see you suffering alongside me for Theo’s happiness, Longbottom. Although, it’s very Slytherin of you to trap Granger along unknowingly.”

Holding out a hand to shake Draco’s, Neville smiled softly before winking at Theo.

“Hermione was trapped into coming to this party all on her own. She doesn’t have to hear Theo’s whining that all his friends actually hate loud parties.”

“Oh Miss Granger, you see how they wound me. You are a bright vision amongst a sea of darkness; the gift of sight in a room full of blind men. We must get a picture of this moment.” Theo waved over to a house-elf before positioning the four of them. He first putting Hermione on Draco’s arm as if the two of them had arrived together.

“My father would be disappointed for inviting Gryffindors to his home, though Neville being pureblood certainly helps. However, he might have a heart attack and die at the thought of a muggle-born Gryffindor, let alone Hermione Granger herself, walking through the halls of Nott Manor.”

“And, why must I be on Malfoy’s arm for your cardiac arrest inducing picture?” Hermione questioned but acquiesced to Theo’s manhandling.

“You and Draco match. Any good witch knows that the best accessory for any occasion is a handsome man. Draco’s used to being quiet and looking pretty for a picture. He’s actually very good at it.” Theo grinned at their placement and the house-elf reappeared with a camera soon after he was finished.

Taking a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, Draco moved to put it behind her ear and whisper to her while Theo fussed with Neville’s tie.

“Thank you for humoring him. He’ll probably send the photo to his father, so I hope you’re okay with attempted murder by a convicted Death Eater.”

Hermione turned towards Draco with wide eyes but his face seemed calm and unaffected. “It doesn’t bother you or…”

“Theo will send the photo and Nott Sr. will be enraged. My father will hear about it and I’ll get a scolding from him about riling up Nott Sr. I’ll probably also be put on some arranged dates with ‘proper witches,’ so that my father can snuff out any lingering desires I had of you. Then my mother will ask me when you’re coming for tea so she can judge if you’re good enough to end the pureblood lines of Black and Malfoy with your ambition. Again, it’s very Slytherin of you, so you may last longer than the first sip of tea with that in mind.” He winked at her and turned to face the camera as it clicked a few shots.

Hermione couldn’t concentrate on the photo. She may have looked at the camera once but her attention was squarely on Draco. He was tall and lean. The feel of his bicep through his blazer was firm and defined. His waistcoat seemed to fit him like a glove and his hair shined like moonlight. He had a calm, soft smile on his face for the photo. It was well practiced, and Hermione was sure it would photograph well. Why was he so calm about making it seem like they were dating? Where was the man who hated her all of school? Where was the man who called her mudblood and who was this man beside her that was not worried about what people would say?

“You never answered how you feel about this photo being sent out?” She whispered to him as the two of them moved off and Theo could take photos with Neville in their Hufflepuff inspired suits.

“Nott Sr. can shove a broom up his arse for all I care. This makes Theo happy, and there is little I wouldn’t do to ensure that. Pissing off Nott Sr. and harmlessly riling up my father in the process is fun. Lucius Malfoy is probably incredibly bored in Azkaban. He might even be grateful for the theatrics.” Draco smirked and walked them towards the bar.

“So, tell me what brings you so far down into the dungeons Granger?” He questioned, handing her a glass of champagne. 

“I wanted to see Theo again. He was really sweet and I needed the push to do something fun for once. I didn’t know he was with Neville, but they seem happy, and that is something Neville really deserves.”

“Neville’s an alright bloke. He’s definitely a Gryffindor, so that grates me a bit, but he’s used to Theo’s dramatics after being friends with Saint Potter, the Weasel and you.”

“You seem to really care about Theo.”

“I’ve known him since I was four. Theo’s mum died pretty early on and Nott Sr. and my grandfather were thick as thieves. When Nott Sr. was captured, we considered him an extended member of the Malfoy clan, no questions asked. He’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother. Neville’s a good man, Theo doesn’t date a lot of those.”

Hermione knew a lot about having a family beyond blood relations. Harry and Ron were always going to be her family, and nothing could change that. She also remembered that moment in school where kids were being told that their parents were being arrested as criminals and murderers. Theo didn’t have a mom and his dad was being taken away from him while he was away at school. It must have been devastating for him. 

“Granger, stop. I can see your pity but don’t. Azkaban was the best thing for Nott Sr. Best thing for Theo too. Does that man acting like an idiot look unhappy? He invited you over to his home for a party, there is obviously no bad blood.” Draco didn’t look at her after his initial observation; just standing against the wall looking at the dancers and party-goers.

“What about you? Do we have bad blood?” She asked as she glanced down on his covered left arm.

“No, we have something a lot worse. I don’t want to get into that here though. Not today at least.” His face darkened at his statement and Hermione couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. Malfoy hadn’t actually changed. He simply had softened his edges.

A house-elf poofed in front of them and handed Draco a slip of paper. Pocketing it he offered his arm to her and tilted his head in gesture for them to leave.

“I’ve served my time. Let’s get out of here and into a place where I can hear myself think.”

Hermione nodded her head at the agreement before turning it into a no. “Wait where are we going?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love this Granger. Nott put the after-party in the library.”

***********************

Hermione was in heaven. The ceiling was enchanted just like Hogwarts. It had a beautiful night sky absolutely filled with stars. There were shelves and shelves of books in the circular room and chairs that looked like they were meant to be curled up in.

“I could die here. I really could.” 

Draco chuckled at her statement while he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Theo and Neville were already there, lounging on a couch and observing her reaction.

“Remind me to never let you see Draco’s family library. I fear you may fall in love with him at first sight.” Theo grinned as wide as a Cheshire, and Hermione blushed as she realized how enthusiastic she was acting.

“Don’t mind him, he's a horrid scoundrel at times. Though, mine is bigger.” Draco raised an eyebrow to her and Hermione froze at the thought. Was Draco Malfoy actually hitting on her?

Moving closer to her and sitting next to her on another couch he continued. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s not just bigger. It’s better. Mine has a better selection of topics. Mine is rarer. Mine has things that are so sacred and coveted it’ll keep you up  _ all _ night.”

Hermione felt her mouth dry up. Her blush had deepened from a light pink to a deep wine red. She had never had someone hit on her with the innuendos of how a library could be like a—like a cock.

She was well and truly embarrassed as the door opened and Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson walked in, looking like supermodels.

“Nott, are you trying to burn your house down? You said this was a cocktail party, not a rager.” Pansy huffed as she sat down in a chair. Her short hair was slicked back to appear wet and she was in a gold mini dress that looked like it was poured on her more than sewn together. The fabric was glued to her body like it was liquid mercury.

“Well Pans, you know even Theo knows it’s gotten too rowdy when he’s already in here. Brought Gryffindors in too. What is this, the Great Hall?” Blaise chuckled as he plopped down in the free chair across from Pansy and unbuttoned his blazer. The material was a shiny sort of red and Hermione bit back the impulse of touching it to see if it was as silky as it looked.

“Come on Blaise, Pansy, you can’t be Whomping Willows about this. Neville and Hermione bring new stories to tell. It’s boring if we just keep telling the same ones to each other.”

“Well then, if the little lions want to sleep in the serpents den then they have to play as the snakes do.” Pansy crossed her legs and Hermione could feel the tension seeping from her.

“What do you have in mind, Pans?” Draco questioned as he placed an arm along the back of the couch. It appeared to make him look more relaxed but the grip he had on his glass made Hermione think it was really him preparing for battle.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll start them off simple. We’ll play a round of Testing Truths.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to missELY for her epic work as always.


	7. It's All in the Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they play a card game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta missELY

“What is Testing Truths?” Neville asked as Blaise pulled out a deck of Tarot cards. Blaise dropped the wards on them with a tap of his wand so that the group could handle the cards enchanted to the Zabini family and handed them to Pansy who began shuffling them.

“Oh, Testing Truths is easy Longbottom. I think we played this game first year. It’s very simple. The deck is arranged face down in a circle. The circle is enchanted that nothing we say here will be repeated unless rediscovered at a separate time. When it’s your turn you grab two cards the first is supposed to represent the topic of the question or request and the second represents the person who will ask you the request.” Pansy finished with a hand sliding the cards into a circle on the coffee table.

“Just so you know these are Zabini family cards. Divination strength has been in my family for a long time so there are enough truth charms and potions there to ensure you don’t pretend to see another topic or person in your card choice.”

Hermione frowned at Blaise’s last statement. Not only had she always been a little prejudiced at the subject of divination; but Blaise was essentially saying the cards were doused in Veritaserum. That was widely illegal, incredibly over the line and—

“Granger, for the love of Morgana, shut up. You think louder than that party was. It’s not Veritaserum. You still have your free will, the cards will just suggest you don’t stray from your initial interpretation.” Draco whispered to her with a hiss while Neville and Blaise talked about their family education on divination. Neville’s grandmother had apparently been quite the accomplished tea reader. She was pretty disappointed that Neville was horrid at divination.

Hermione turned to Draco with wide eyes. “You’re a Legilimens?” She whispered harshly. She tried to shut her mind down from her thoughts that wanted to do nothing but run a mile a minute.

“Granger relax. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t like using it too often, but you were practically shouting your thoughts at Blaise. Use your inside voice and we’ll all stay inside of our own heads.” Draco patted her shoulder before returning his hand to the back of the couch as Theo drew the first card.

“The Ace of Pentacles. Money, let’s talk about money.” 

Theo showed the card to everyone and Blaise audibly groaned.“That is boring as fuck of a choice. It’s hardly worth the game. I knew we should have taken the boring cards out.” 

Pansy shooed Blaise with a wave of her hand before motioning for Theo to pick the person before responding.“That’s not how this works and you know it. The Gryffindors can’t be scared off early or they’ll never play with us in the fun games.”

“The High Priestess.” Said Theo, “The understanding one. As Pansy has decided to showcase that she actually has a heart tonight, I think I will give her the first question.” Theo gave her both cards and Pansy pursed her lips to think of a question.

“How much money did you borrow from Draco in fifth year to cover up your little scandal?” She smirked and the color fell rapidly from Theo’s face 

“800 Galleons. It was money well spent, and as soon as I turned of age I sent the money back to Draco with interest.” Theo answered quickly and took a deep gulp of his firewhiskey. 

Something told Hermione that it wasn’t the money that bothered Theo, but she wasn’t going to pry so early in their friendship. She  _ had _ known Draco for over a decade and didn’t hesitate to ask, “So you just had 800 Galleons on you at school? I’m personally offended by how ungodly wealthy you are.”

“Granger, it is very godly to be wealthy. Hades himself was the Greek god of wealth. Esme was the god for the Welsh. And no, I didn’t, but I told my parents I broke my broom at quidditch practice and they sent me the money for a replacement.” Draco winked and Hermione felt suddenly like she was sitting in Marie Antoinette’s court. 

“Oh yeah, you may have had to ask for the 800, but you forgot to tell her you had 350 on you at all times, just in case.” Pansy ratted him out and motioned for Neville to pick a card.

“Man, you’re a rich bastard Malfoy. I should’ve made you buy me a new Rememberal.” Neville held up the Ten of Pentacles and pursed his lips before stating. “Let’s talk about family values.”

Pulling out another card he showcased The Empress in reverse. “That means you get to ask the question to the person you believe the card represents,” Blaise informed Neville.

“Well Hermione, you’ve always taken care of me and your friends. So I’ll ask. Let’s say you're pregnant with one of the blokes in this room. Who would you want it to be the most?” He handed her the cards and Hermione felt their gentle pull.

Neville was the natural choice, wasn’t he? Kind, stable, loyal. She’d be able to raise a child exactly how she wanted with little fight from him. Even though he was a pureblood, Hermione doubted that she’d have issues teaching their child about the muggle world. However, it was always her opinion that raising a child should be a team effort. She doubted Neville would argue with her on anything and he would be a ‘go ask your mother’ kind of dad. 

Blaise, however, was on the other end of the spectrum. While the child would be undoubtedly beautiful with flawless skin and glorious curls, that would be the only good thing that would come from birthing the Zabini heir. Hermione was sure she’d rather raise a child alone than with someone as loud and boisterous as Blaise.

‘What about Draco?’ The cards seemed to ask her and she pursed her lips at the thought. Draco was handsome, intelligent. He seemed to know when to take the lead and when to step aside. He’d been so caring when she was on her period and he’d been nothing less than a gentleman recently. But, Neville said the topic was family values. Any child of his would be a half-blood. The sheer thought of a half-blood Malfoy sounded sacrilegious. Even if she was allowed to birth a child from him, Malfoy was a pompous child. He was arrogant and elitist. Did she really want to have that person raise her child? Did she really want to risk her child turning out how Malfoy was as a child? She quickly shook the thought away as she set the cards to face down.

“Theo,” Hermione said without further explanation. She didn’t want to dwell on the possibility of parenting the least bad of the choices. 

“Oh Miss Granger, I’m honored.” Theo gushed. “I’ll have to keep your name in mind when I start looking for a surrogate to carry on the Nott line.”

“You can’t call her a surrogate if you still expect to have sex with her Nott,” Draco said immediately. Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Oh, it’s called baby-making, not baby manufacturing. What’s sleeping together once between friends? We've all done it.” Theo waved it off as the other five in the room shouted out a unified “No we haven’t!”

Draco took the opportunity to pull the next card and laughed. “Pansy! It wants to talk about past lovers.” 

Pulling out The Judgement card Draco winked at Pansy and added. “It wants you to talk about our past.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and thought, thinking a moment before leaning back in her chair.

“Do the thing that made me fall in love with you.” 

Pansy was so calm in her suggestion that Hermione nearly missed it. Draco stood silently and unbuttoned his jacket before setting it on the back of the couch. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and Hermione could see the faded black of his dark mark along with what seemed to be a sleeping snake in white that was entangled with the dark-colored tattoo. He walked over to Pansy and leaned in to kiss her. Hermione was suddenly extremely uncomfortable and feared what she was about to see. However, Draco merely kissed her forehead and walked over to a baby grand piano. Hermione was surprised at the relief she felt but shook off the feeling as she saw Draco take his seat. His fingers stretched over the keys before playing the first few harsh and dramatic notes. Then, they turned into beautiful, light tones and Hermione was swept away by Draco’s playing.

She didn’t notice Theo sit beside her until she heard him speaking. Turning to look at him Theo moved her shoulders with gentle hands back to looking at Draco’s playing.

“Draco’s a romantic at heart. Everyone knew it’d only be a matter of time before the two got together. Draco had gotten on the quidditch team in second year. It was practically unheard of, well, besides Potter of course. He was first our year in potions and second overall in grades. Plus, he had almost unanimously become top dog by Christmas second year. He got every Slytherin in our year a gift second year and we happily gave him the title of The Crowned Prince. Pansy had fought tooth and nail to become queen bee of our year. The two were so powerful they even had sway over the year above them.” Hermione rolled her eyes at the politics of Slytherin being so cutthroat that a couple of twelve-year-olds could be considered a power couple. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Hermione waved her hand for Theo to get to the point of his story. 

“When Draco started looking into who would be his bird, Pansy was the obvious choice. He said he wanted to woo her. Make everyone jealous that he was her boyfriend so that she’d be even more special. He gave her expensive gifts. Carried her books, ate breakfast with her every morning. What sealed the deal was the Slytherin Sunday. The Sunday before the first quidditch game, Slytherin house spends the day by the Black Lake. We eat, chat, socialize with everyone in our house, and form bonds. Draco transfigured a boulder into a piano and played for the house. He dedicated this song to her with a wink. When he was done and he walked over to her, and the rest was history. They were Draco and Pansy. King and Queen of the serpents, the couple  _ everyone _ wanted to be like.”

Draco finished the song and Hermione couldn’t help but clap, both at his performance and the story that came from it. Realizing a moment too late that it may have been uncouth to applaud a dare, Hermione smiled at the sight of Theo and Neville clapping along with her. Hermione smiled at Draco when he came back to sit next to her. Theo had rejoined Neville at the end of the song.

“Wow, that was fantastic. Theo told me the story of how you and Pansy got together, and I was surprised that I had never heard of it. If someone had done that in Gryffindor the entire school would’ve known.” 

“I did it on Slytherin Sunday for a reason. We keep that tradition a secret. The house head casts disillusion charms to hide us from anyone not in the house. It’s a tradition we’ve kept for centuries. Slytherin Sunday is about forming bonds. Asking someone to be your girlfriend on that day, a day about being together as one house, is like saying I’m not really in Slytherin unless I’m in Slytherin with you. A declaration on that day is bound to get special attention in a house all about choosing your bonds wisely.” He patted her hand and returned to the game with Blaise’s turn. 

*******************

They had heard about Blaise’s plans to invite them all, herself and Neville included, to his vineyards to commemorate his newest vintage going to market. They had heard tell that Pansy’s photoshoots were going to start soon, and she was most excited to work with the supermodel Nova. Draco apparently knew her from childhood but refused to let anyone talk about her. 

Neville talked about being wary of the school year starting back up. He thought he’d seen all the mischief he could with being friends with Ron and Harry. However, the current second years seemed to be gunning for the title. His statement brought joyous laughter to the Slytherins and they started talking about all of the more innocent antics of their school years. The game sat forgotten on the table, but something told Hermione that was what the cards wanted after all.

“Did you ever find out that Harry and Ron snuck into the Slytherin common room second year?” Hermione asked Draco and the three Slytherins turned sharply towards her with a resounding “What?”

“I take it you didn’t. I made a polyjuice potion and they turned into Crabbe and Goyle.” She placed a strand of hair behind her ear and bit her lip at the shocked look on Draco’s face.

“Let me get this straight. You brewed a successful polyjuice in second year?” Draco asked. 

She nodded. 

“You managed to get hairs from Crabbe and Goyle to turn into them?.” 

Another nod. 

“And no one, including me, ever caught them?.” Draco added. 

“That’s right.”

“So how did you learn the password?.” Theo asked as he leaned closer to them.

“Draco let them in. They caught him in the hallway and got lucky.”

“Holy mother of Morgana. Well, where were the real Crabbe and Goyle?” Draco demanded as his brows furrowed tightly. 

Hermione chuckled at the thought of him looking over every interaction with the two that year to see if there was one that stood out as odd.

“I had placed some heavy sleeping draughts in some cupcakes, and those two ate them. Harry and Ron hid them in a broom closet until they got back.”

“You were devious little ones. I’m impressed.” Pansy nodded in her appreciation. “Maybe Potter and Granger were actually supposed to be in Slytherin like you thought Blaise?”

“Wait, you thought Harry and I were supposed to be in Slytherin?” Hermione questioned in awe as she turned towards the darker-skinned man.

“Well, you didn’t always act like Gryffindors. Weasley is a good example of a classic Gryffindor. Potter didn’t want to study enough to be a Ravenclaw and you could be Slytherin levels of ruthless at times.”

Nodding at the comment Hermione added. “Well, Harry chose Gryffindor. The hat originally chose him for Slytherin.” 

“We could’ve had the damn Chosen One be a serpent? Who bloody screwed that up?” Blaise shouted. 

The smile that Hermione saw on Draco’s face was wide and bright, and nothing like she had seen before. He had a dimple in his right cheek that Hermione swore didn’t exist before that night. His eyes seemed to sparkle and the grey in them shimmered like the pearlescent glow of unicorn’s blood. 

“That was equal parts mine and Weasel’s fault. I tried to befriend Potter before the sorting ceremony and Weasel reared his ugly head. We acted as Malfoys and Weasleys do, and as Weasley got there first, Weasel got the Golden Boy. We have to blame Salazar for not having Granger in our dungeons. You would’ve done well with us though. We would have actually helped you study.” Draco teased her. 

Hermione then thought about what her life would’ve been like if she was sorted into Slytherin house as the first-ever muggle-born Slytherin. 

She would’ve met Theo early on. She would’ve possibly seen Draco as nothing but a harmless rival to her grades. She would’ve finally been able to have the challenging intellectual arguments that Harry and Ron never liked having. Slytherins always seemed to be in groups too. She had admired the collective aspect of that house; a fact that deterred her from Ravenclaw’s more isolationist mentalities. 

“Would we have been friends then? If we all were 11 again and were starting school in September? After the war and everything? Or even before it had happened?”

“After the war, maybe,” Theo uttered. 

“But before it all happened you wouldn’t have been happy. Some purebloods were really purists. Some still are. You would’ve had trouble dating. You couldn’t have dated Draco, Blaise, or myself. Pansy would’ve hated you on principle, which meant Daphne would have steered clear of you in solidarity. After the war….” Theo paused looking at his hand held in Neville’s and Hermione thought about if that relationship would have even been possible without the war. 

“Well, maybe some good things happened because of the war.” Theo finished and Hermione stared at her feet and the snakeskin heels that were on them. 

She only fit in now because Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco lost the war. They had to look like they accepted all types of wizards or they’d be severely punished. But did she really fit in? Were they being kind to the new girl only to laugh at her behind her back? 

_ “You’re here because you belong. I don’t believe in blood purity anymore and I haven’t since fifth year.” _ It was Draco’s voice, but he wasn’t speaking. He had  used legilimency on her. 

“Sorry, you were shouting again.” He whispered in her ear before looking away. Not wanting him to think she was upset, she held his hand and thought loudly. 

_ “No thank you, I needed to know that you didn’t think the same.” _

Smiling at her he then turned towards his friends.

_ “Theo adores you and even though it may be hard to see, Blaise and Pansy like you too. Maybe we couldn’t have been friends then, but we can be now. If Potter and I can work together for over a year without killing one another, I think we can 100% be friends.”  _

Hermione grinned and she caught Theo looking at her. The man across from her gave her an odd look and Hermione turned to Draco to see if he knew what Theo was on about. Noticing that Draco had noticed as well Draco removed his hand and schooled his features back into the calm and collected Draco she was used to. 

She felt an odd sense of emptiness not holding his hand anymore. He was quite warm and the smooth texture of the Malfoy signet ring on his thumb made her feel grounded. Hermione told herself that it was nothing. It had probably just been a while since she had had contact with a male and her body was liking the attention. 

Hermione lasted a bit longer in the room as the moon rose high in the sky. Yawning, she stood. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Theo. I had a great time, but I really need to get going. It’s gotten so late.” 

Blaise, Neville, Theo, and Draco all stood as she did. It still confused her how well trained these pureblood boys were.

“Oh, it’s alright my dear. Please feel free to stay the night. I can have a room made for you immediately. I forgot to offer first as these heathens—“ Theo pointed to Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, “expect it, and Neville asked nicely earlier to stay the weekend; the little angel.” 

Shaking her head she smiled and turned towards the door. “I don’t want to impose, and I didn’t bring anything to change into. Thank you for the kind offer though and I wish you a lovely evening.” 

Neville and Blaise sat down and Draco proceeded to roll his sleeves down and slip on his jacket.

“I’ll escort you to the Floo room. This place is a maze if you haven’t been to it about a thousand times before.” Draco murmured and offered her his arm. They apparated straight to the Floo room as soon as they exited the library, and Hermione just barely kept her footing.

“Warn me next time okay?” Hermione huffed as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t like apparating normally, let alone a surprise side-along. 

“I wanted to warn you, just about something else. Theo saw that moment between us. Regardless of the fact that you and I were having a private chat, he saw we held hands and thought that I was recreating my moment of asking Pansy out. So I’m warning you, he’s going to try to set us up and I need to know what to say to him.” 

“What do you mean what to say?” Hermione started when she saw him run a hand through his hair. Draco clearly saw Theo thinking they’d be a good match as much more than just his best friend’s observation.

“I can’t say no to Theo. However, I’m in no position to be dating anyone right now and even if I was, I've got Nova coming and I really need to close that door.” He sighed and looked up at her with a sense of desperation.

“Tell me why you’ve already rejected me. I’ll tell you if it’s good enough for Theo to back off, and we can have a story until I get my life in fucking order.” He looked panicked. He looked like Theo was going to force them to be together until the Daily Prophet was starting rumors. 

Draco was a good man now. She didn’t want to give him the obvious answer. The scar on her arm, the mark on his, the insults he threw at her in school. What could she say? 

And then it hit her, she would be giving an excuse. She would’ve said yes if he asked now and that scared her. 

Even though they were considered enemies. Even though Hermione wasn’t sure just how much he had changed. Even though their friends hated each other, she would’ve still given him a chance. That alone was far more to unpack than Hermione could deal with at the moment. 

So she told him what everyone expected her to say.

“Tell him I said I’m not ready to unpack our entire past for a few good moments in the present.” 

She entered the Floo before he had a chance to respond, but the sad smile on his face told her he felt the same way. 

When she got back into Number 12 she sighed and took off her shoes. Staring at the inscription on them she groaned.

“Some Gryffindor you are. You basically admitted to being a coward, and that Ginny was right.”

  
  



	8. Meddling with Models

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Pansy calls him a peacock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY

When Draco returned to the party only Theo remained. The man was playing soft notes on the piano and he didn’t look up from his playing when Draco entered.

“Neville retired and Pansy revealed that her shoots start pretty early tomorrow. Miss Granger turned out to have impeccable timing.” Changing the song to a more romantic tune Theo continued, “Blaise went back down to the party to see if he could find a conquest. You could’ve left with her.”

Draco walked up to the piano after pouring two glasses of Ogden’s Finest. “I’m on a break from being a conqueror. Working with models all day has ruined the chase.” 

Pausing his playing, Theo looked up at Draco and frowned. “I don’t know you. You work with models. Models that fling themselves at you and you find the audacity to stop making conquests?” 

Grabbing the glass with his left hand, his right still playing the melody, Theo took a long gulp.

“You’ve always had the highest libido of the three of us, Nott. Sometimes I even wonder how you do it.” Draco smirked at his oldest friend while raising a toast to his talents.

“I have been blessed by Apollo. Rather rude of a sun-god to bless a family known for their penchant for nightly activities.” Theo chuckled before focusing on the song.

“Why aren’t you with Neville, mister conquistador?” 

“I didn’t want you to be alone when you came back from escorting Miss Granger,” Theo answered and Draco glared at him until Theo continued. “And Pansy told me that shoots start with Nova tomorrow. I wondered if you were going to be okay.”

Draco sighed and downed his glass, quickly turning to refill it.

“I told you before just like I told everyone else; Nova and I are old friends, that’s it.” 

Rolling his eyes Theo scoffed, “Bollox. You’ve known Nova just about as long as you’ve known me. Nova and you used to be inseparable. Nova and Draco. I remember being so jealous of the minx because whenever you got a new toy you always showed it to her first. Nova was the first girl you thought was pretty besides your mum. Nova was your first kiss man!”

“And she moved away when I was ten! She never went to Hogwarts; she went to Ivermory!” Draco hissed back at his friend. 

Theo responded back without missing a beat.

“And even when you started dating Pansy you always made time for her every summer. ‘Sorry babe I can’t go with you to Paris, Nova is visiting.’ ‘Mate I can’t make it to Greece, Nova invited me to spend a week in LA.’ ‘Merlin I got so burnt seeing Nova in New Orleans. Her mum can cook though I swear I grew a stone!’” Theo scoffed and stopped his playing to finish his drink.

“Every one of our parents thought you two would get married and turn the Malfoys into the most powerful wizarding family in the world. Then one day she just stopped existing to you. Pansy said she had nothing to do with it, and for once I believed her. From the time you were five until you were fifteen, Nova was your entire world. Why is she nothing to you now?"

“Maybe we weren’t meant to be. It was a little boy crush on the first pretty girl I knew, Nott. I was bound to get over it and shouldn’t I have sooner once I had Pansy?” Draco kept his tone smooth but had a vice grip on his glass.

“Maybe, but forgive me for thinking that you never loved Pansy the way you loved Nova.”

“Well, it’s pretty moot now since I don’t love anyone.”

“Speaking of that..” Theo mused but flinched back at the icy stare Draco gave him.

“I. Am. Single. Nott. I have no desire to deal with your meddling, certainly not with one-third of the Golden Trio. Do you know what would happen if I even tried to go out with Granger? I’d have the entire Weasley clan on my ass faster than I could say alohomora. Potter and I spent a year learning how to not hex each other at work, and I think he’d willingly face Azkaban to prevent me from dating her.”

“So what you’re saying is you like her?” Theo concluded with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Granger isn’t bad to look at or talk to, no. But she’s the most off-limits woman I’ve ever met. I’d have to be just short of wanting to marry her to risk asking her out.” Draco sighed and Theo pouted at him before tapping a singular somber note on the piano.

“You know Draco, you take all the fun out of things.” 

“I aim to please Nott, now please repeat after me.”

“Sure,” Theo said with a shrug.

“I, Theodore Nott Jr.”

“I, Theodore Nott Jr.”

“Do solemnly swear.”

“Do solemnly swear.”

“To butt the fuck out of Draco Malfoy’s love life.”

“To butt the fuck out of Draco Malfoy’s love life.”

Draco sighed with a smile and set his empty glass down on the table.

“Thanks, mate. I think I am going to head out after all. Sleep in my own bed and all that.” Draco turned and walked out of the room with a salute of goodbye.

“Sleep well Draco!” Theo called out before moving to grab a spare bit of parchment and a quill.

“Draco said absolutely nothing about butting into anyone else’s love life. Let’s see who bites first Miss Granger or Miss Avery?”

************

Ginny Weasley was far too perky that Saturday morning. She had stayed over with Harry the night before and was currently jumping on the foot of Hermione’s bed.

“Wake up, wake up! You have to tell me what happened. I’ve been waiting for you all morning!”

Hermione groaned and looked at her alarm clock. Whining at the time she sat up and ran a hand through her mess of unruly curls.

“How is 9:30 all morning Ginny? It was fine. There were lots of people. Neville and Theo were sweet. Blaise was loud. Pansy was rude. Malfoy was civil.” Hermione yawned towards the end of her sentence but conceded to getting up.

“So it’s back to Malfoy now, is it? Well, it’s been all morning because I have a fitting with Parkinson’s at 11:00; I wanted to get a workout in beforehand so I’d look all fit and trim. You should come with. Pansy said they’re doing photoshoots in the morning so we could see what it’s like.”

“I’m not really in the mood Ginny. I’m going to have to go through it next weekend and the weekend after that, so why prolong the agony?” Hermione questioned as she grabbed a hairbrush from her dresser and attempted to wrangle her curls into a bun on the top of her hair.

“Oh, you’re such a bad girl. Come with me it’ll be fun. What if we meet someone famous? Like the popstar Drabek, or the supermodel Nova, or maybe that artist you like so much Candlenut?” Ginny probed and started filtering through Hermione’s closet to find something suitable for the brunette to wear.

Hermione was not one for the glitz and glamour of the fashion world. However, Candlenut was someone that had been on her radar as interesting. She had blown up with her series of detective novels, and Hermione was addicted and read every single one. Seeing her had been a goal of Hermione’s for two years now. Hermione just thought that she would meet her at a book signing, not at a photo shoot.

“There is no guarantee that Candlenut would be there Ginny.”

“But there is a guarantee that  _ one  _ of them would be there, and I like those odds. Come on Granger, keep me company! Where is your Gryffindor spirit of friendship and bravery?”

Ginny held out a simple sundress for her to wear and Hermione sighed in defeat. So much for the peaceful lie-in, she wanted to have on Saturday. 

***********

Pansy was an absolute mess. She was covered in clothespins and measuring tape. She was running between dressers, makeup artists, and photographers, and none of them seemed to make her happy. Draco stepped through the doors to work on the financials of Nova’s contract, content to spend the day hidden in his office when he spied Pansy running towards him.

“Holy mother of Helga Hufflepuff, this day has been a disaster. Nova was late getting here by 30 minutes! She was supposed to start getting ready by 8:00 so that we could start shooting by 9:00. Her hair and makeup went over, and I had to fix the hem on two of her dresses, so we just started shooting at 10:30. Weasley is going to be here any minute for a fitting and we look like a market bazaar in here!” Pansy raged to him while Draco stared at her passively.

“And what in Morgana’s name are you doing here? I thought you hated models?! Yet today’s of all days you decide to loiter around the studio like a damn Malfoy peacock! These are not your gardens and this isn’t your company Draco I don’t have time to clean up whatever mess you bloody make!” Draco chuckled at the tell tell sign of a Pansy freak out and tuned out the rest of her long-winded insult. 

Draco honestly didn’t know why she was so surprised. Models seemed to have no concept of time and Nova was a unique body type. Pansy had a penchant for choosing skinny, pale models with straight hair. Nova was none of those things, so obviously she would need more time to reflect the Parkinson look.

Rolling his eyes, Draco placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

“Pansy, take control. You managed to control my bossy arse for seven years at Hogwarts. Now, if you want to be nice for once, I’m happy to start chastising and yelling; but  _ someone  _ has to be the boss here.”

“A world where Draco Malfoy isn’t the boss of everything? Now I know I’ve seen everything.”

Draco turned slowly, almost unbelieving he noted a voice he hadn’t heard in seven years.

“Nova, it’s been a while. You look great.” Draco quickly moved to kiss her hand, hoping that he hadn’t completely forgotten his manners.

“Your team does a good job, but with curls like mine it’s a bit of a battle.” Nova chuckled and flipped her long, espresso colored curls behind her back.

“Nova you look stunning, let’s get you in front of the camera so you can work your magic,” Pansy said with a huff. “I know you’re very busy so I can’t thank you enough for accommodating us.”

“Oh, I’d do anything for Draco ma belle. Tell me the story of your shoot and I’ll make your fantasy come to life.” Nova smiled widely at Pansy and walked with her to the shoot, stealing a glance in Draco’s direction before walking away.

**********

“Pansy makes such pretty clothes. As much as I know an athletic line is  _ vastly  _ overdue in the wizarding world, I really wanted to be dressed in her dresses and gowns.” Ginny spoke in awe as they passed through the front showroom and entered the lift to get to the workspace on the higher floors.

“Ginny, you’ve got a great body. I know I couldn’t pull off the activewear collection Pansy has planned for you.” Hermione chuckled, but it was short-lived once she saw the symphony of chaos that had appeared before her. 

The floor they were on was wide and it was divided, half for photoshoots, half for fittings. The room was full of natural lighting and transfigured sets. However, all eyes were on some model posing in a transfigured set of a flower shop. 

Hermione didn’t get to stare long, as Pansy’s assistant and head designer Jasper walked up to them swiftly.

“Miss Weasley, Miss Granger, so nice of you to come visit us. Please excuse the chaos we have going here, but sometimes that is the way of fashion. Come right this way Miss Weasley, we’ve got all your garments set for a final fitting in room two. Miss Granger, I am unaware of if you had an appointment today?” Jasper asked slowly and Hermione was unsure if he was being judgmental or truly curious.

“Oh, I’m just here with Ginny. I’ve got all my fittings scheduled for later this week.” Hermione smiled brightly for the slim man.

“Yes, well, if that is the case please make yourself comfortable and have Mitsy bring you some tea. Miss Weasley and I shouldn’t take too long.” He bowed shallowly and left Hermione with no option to join them.

Sitting down at the lounge watching the shoot with one eye, a familiar face caught her eye. Draco was talking to Mitsy as they were both walking towards Hermione.

“Granger, they stuck you in here today too? Pansy really was trying to off herself today.” Draco asked teasingly.

“No, it’s not that.” Hermione shook her head roughly, “Ginny just wanted me to come with. Jasper told me to sit pretty and wait so I guess it was a waste after all.”

Draco nodded and moved to sit next to her. “It’s better you avoid him. Jasper can make clothes like a madman, but he is  _ still _ a madman. Mitsy could you get Miss Granger a cup of coffee with just a dash of milk, no sugar, my usual, and those little biscuits I stash away in my office? Feel free to steal one for yourself, they actually taste like something compared to the swill the models eat.” Draco laughed and shooed off the perky blonde.

“You remember that I like coffee, not tea?”  _ And the exact way she took it.  _ Hermione thought as she bit her lip.

“You had the same thing nearly every day at school. Use that brain of yours and think about what you believe my order is?” Draco winked at her as he turned towards the shoot with a scrutinizing eye.

Hermione thought back to hundreds of moments in the great hall and to Draco sitting at the Slytherin table. Then she thought of their eighth year, and the much less crowded Prefect common room.

“Earl Grey, three sugars, milk, and it had to be with something sweet. You wouldn’t drink your tea at all if there weren’t biscuits or pastries with it. I always was jealous of how much sugar you put in everything.”

“Oh really? Why so?” Draco asked without looking at her, but she did catch the smirk on his face as she guessed his order right.

“My parents they’re muggle dentists, they fix teeth. Sugar was a rarity in my household and not something I would so freely add to drinks, or be able to eat so much of.”

Draco paused for a moment at her explanation before saying, “I don’t know if you’ve been told this or not but I grew up quite spoiled.”

He said the phrase so seriously, but because of that Hermione couldn’t stop laughing. She was still in stitches by the time that Mitsy came back with a tray of apple cinnamon biscuits and their drinks.

“Draco Malfoy, able to make fun of himself? I thought I’d never see the day.” Hermione cried out as she held herself by her sides; taking in full deep gasps as she tried to calm down.

Hermione was wiping her eyes from the tears that had fallen so she didn’t notice when another presence had appeared before them.

“Mon Cherie, ma belle? Who is this sweet summer flower that you’ve got gracing your presence, my beautiful white wyrm?” 

Hermione heard a voice that sounded like hot honey; smooth and thick as it touched your ears. Turning towards the sound, she got a good glimpse of the legendary Nova Avery. 

Hermione never cared much about pretty girls. She long thought that books and cleverness were far more important. She had regarded those that relied on beauty as a lesser, more vain breed. However, Nova was the kind of beauty that made Hermione think that maybe there was nothing more powerful than a truly beautiful woman. 

She was the kind of pretty that was nearly painful to look at. Heart-shaped face with large almond-shaped eyes. Her Irises a brown so deep Hermione thought that she would get lost in them if she stared too long. Her skin was flawless to the point it nearly glowed and was the color of caramel dragon’s eggs candies. Hermione never liked the sweets but one look at Nova’s skin made her crave them. Her legs were long and curved dipped into shapely hips and pert breasts. She was built like a calligraphy painting and she didn’t so much as walk as glided around the studio. 

Her hand reached out to shake Hermione’s and she could see long slender fingers with perfectly manicured nails. Hermione never had nice nails as she’d learned to pick them at an early age. On Nova's thumb, she had a strange ring of pewter. It seemed to be a needle and thread or maybe it was a stick and twine. When Hermione went to shake her hand she felt the ring vibrate against her magic and Hermione fought the urge to yank back her hand. 

She felt more than heard Draco speaking to her as their shoulders were touching in their positions on the couch. Hermione looked up at the two of them to see that Draco had stood and placed a hand on Nova’s upper back. His fingers were curled in long, defined ringlets that Hermione always dreamed of having. Her espresso colored locks seemed more than fitting on the African American model and Hermione bit the inside of her lip to fight the irritation in the effort it took her to wrangle her own curls half as nice. 

“Nova here was actually really excited to meet you. I think knowing you were on board was half the reason she agreed to model for us.” Draco smiled at Hermione and she, for the life of her, couldn’t believe that someone like Nova was dying to meet her. 

“Oh my word, yes! I would’ve asked Papa Legba himself for a favor to meet the great Hermione Granger. These Hogwarts witches don’t often warrant the attention of my kind, but for a liberator like yourself, I had to make my acquaintance.” She curtsied slightly, the white peasant dress Pansy had put on her flowed elegantly in the act. 

“I’m sorry your kind?” Hermione questioned, catching the soft American accent but not much else. 

“Nova here went to Ilvermory to appease her father and the British side of her family. Her mother’s side starts school differently and she’s quite well regarded in the voodoo world.” Draco informed Hermione, kissing Nova’s hand. 

_ A voodoo priestess?  _ Hermione thought as she stared at Draco’s lips on Nova’s hand and she shook away the lingering jealousy that she felt.

“Oh wow! I’ve never met someone from a hoodoo or voodoo tribe. Closed practices don’t exactly write a lot of books.” Hermione said as she tried to think of what research she had read on that form of witchcraft. 

“That means we’re doing it right. I know you’re British and different, but for lack of a better term you Salem witches do a lot of book reading and wand-waving and very little magic. Plus, you’re a little burn-at-the-stake happy.” Nova smirked in a way that seemed bristled before she continued. 

“I should make an exception for the witch who ended Voldemort and did more to free house-elves in England than anyone else has done in centuries. How about I answer a few questions you have in exchange for some of mine? From the tribe of Madame Marie Laveau to the Golden Girl herself.” Nova added with a smile and Hermione suddenly felt this sick mix of affection and revulsion from her that made Hermione’s head spin.


	9. Tea and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Draco has tea with his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY

“How about I answer a few questions you have in exchange for some of mine? From the tribe of Madame Marie Laveau to the Golden Girl herself.” Nova added with a smile. Her flash of perfectly white teeth made Hermione’s head spin and Hermione suddenly felt a sick mix of affection and revulsion. 

Seeing Hermione’s discomfort, Draco pulled the two witches further apart and glared at Nova. 

“Nova love, I’d suggest you be a little less heavy-handed with Granger. She’s not used to your ways.” Draco chided Nova as he sat Hermione down on the couch.

It wasn’t until a spark dulled in Nova’s eyes that Hermione felt better and realized she’d been enchanted.

“Sorry love, I don’t know my own strength sometimes. Draco, my beloved, is so talented at Occulency that my... persuasion abilities are quite diminished. I don’t hold my power back around him, so sometimes it just leaks out.” She smiled and Hermione gasped at the casual way Nova admitted to enchanting others regularly.

“I’m sorry, but Malfoy, how are you okay with her doing that?” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Nova with what Harry called Hermione’s headmistress stare.

“Granger, I’m not. Nova doesn’t use it all the time, and I would hope that she didn’t do it on purpose now?” Draco both said and questioned Nova as he transfigured his tea into water for Hermione to sip.

“Oh, absolutely Miss Granger.” Nova nodded swiftly and sat down gracefully in the chair adjacent to them. “I really wanted you to agree to our little lunch date so my magic took the intention and tried to help you agree. Trust me, I mean you no harm.” Hermione was still a little uneasy with the aftereffects of such a strong enchantment. If Nova was supposedly so good at casting them then this must have been an accident; only shoddily casted enchantments caused nausea. 

Hermione pursed her lips at the idea of being controlled. She wasn’t so forgiving of someone who was openly manipulative with their magic. Hermione reserved those types of nefarious acts to those who grew up in the dungeons of Slytherin, even though she currently was beginning to see the good sides of those who wore the silver and green colors. Hermione turned to deny Nova when she saw Draco’s raised eyebrow. 

That look was one Hermione had recognized from him at school. It was a look that challenged her to break the rules just a little. It was a look that dared her to not be a goody two shoes for just one moment. It was a look that told her to let off the third years for being out past curfew. It was a look that was currently telling her to let the girl off the hook. Hermione had slowly become susceptible to the look after 8th year, and she sighed as she accepted its power in this instance.

“Fine then, I suppose I can make some time in my schedule for you.” Hermione nodded and crossed her hands over her chest.

“Perfect! Draco, why don’t we do lunch at The Ivy? It’ll be perfect and I’m craving their petit fours.” Nova clapped her fingers together and smiled in that perfectly posed, yet casual way that only models knew how to do. 

Draco nodded and smiled softly at Nova, catching Pansy’s glaring eye before placing a gentle hand on Nova’s back. He stood gracefully and held out a hand to assist the model up so they could walk towards the shoot that had reset. 

“Of course Nova, I’ll have mother arrange the table for us and we’ll get together; but I do believe we’re ready for you to start the shoot again.” Draco cooed and slowly attempted to walk her towards the photoshoot.

“Oh yes, Narcissa! Oh, I’m sure she’ll want me to have tea at Witch Hazel with her and we’ll have to go shopping while I’m in town. Oh yes! I’ll have to send her a letter right away. Are you still at the manor? We’ll have to go through the gardens together like old times.” Nova ranted on while barely stopping to take a breath and Hermione felt like she was intruding on Draco and his girlfriend. However, Nova was soon taken away from the couches by two assistants who were desperate to get her changed.

Ginny wasn’t back yet so Hermione slumped back into her seat and saw that Draco was still there; a pale color washed over his face.

“What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hermione asked, motioning for him to sit down on the couch with her.

“I could handle Theo and Pansy and even Nova herself, but I completely forgot about my mother,” Draco mumbled mostly to himself as he stared at the floor. His hands lazily waved Mitsy over and gestured for her to get him another cup of tea.

“What about your mother?” Hermione questioned, grabbing her cup of coffee and sipping it daintily, relishing in the still warm liquid thanks to the enchanted cup.

“Nova and I were very close as children. Nova’s mother wasn’t really one for society life, but Nova loved the balls and the soirees. They became very close, and as my feelings for Nova grew into the inklings of romance, my mother started getting it in her head that Nova could be the daughter she never had.” The tea came shortly after and he sipped his tea silently with a look of contemplation on his face.

“Draco, I don’t see the issue?” Hermione asked after a bit of time had passed.

“Nova and I, for lack of a better word, broke up at 15. It devastated my mother nearly as much as…” He paused in his statement as grey irises darkened and his jaw clenched. 

“Anyway, marriage was always my mother’s end goal and what a marriage it would have been. Entrance into a closed practice would’ve been the invite of the century. Not to mention the Malfoys haven’t had any notable representation in America since the 18th century.” Draco said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And your point being?” Hermione asked with a mocking wave of her own.

“Nova is back. Nova adores my mother. My mother adores Nova. My mother will expect me to escort Nova everywhere she goes and will tell the papers to be there. I can’t believe I was worried about Theo when my mother was part of the equation?!” Draco hissed and stood up stiffly.

“Draco, what is so awful about Nova that you want everyone to drop any mention of you together? What did she do to you?” 

Turning down to stare at her Draco gave her a sickening grin.

“Who said she did anything to me?” Draco hissed before skulking off to his office. 

**********************

Ginny came back happy and dressed, and Hermione quickly jetted them out of the fashion house without another word from the redhead.

“Woah, Woah, Granger, put a break on your broom and slow down. What’s got you so frazzled?” Ginny asked as they walked out of the shop and towards a designated apparition point.

“I met Nova Avery. She invited me to lunch with her and Draco at The Ivy, apparently, his mother has a table. Nova tried to enchant me into coming, and I think Draco is absolutely terrified his mother is going to betroth him to Nova.”

Ginny paused as they reached the apparition spot. She was silent as they apparated back into Number 12 Grimmauld Place and didn’t say a word as she poured herself and Hermione a glass of white wine. It was only when Ginny handed Hermione her own glass that the redhead spoke up. 

“Shite. Sweet Salazar’s forked tongue, I missed all that?! You met Nova Avery the supermodel, got a lunch invite to The Ivy—a table that takes months to get a reservation for by the way— learned that Malfoy dated the supermodel Nova, and she tried to bloody bewitch you? I’m never leaving your sight again. Your life is too damn interesting.” Hermione rolled her eyes while sipping her wine.

“It isn’t that serious. I’m pretty sure Draco and she were just a childhood romance, your first crush, and all that. Plus, if Narcissa Malfoy always has a table then it kinda defeats the allure of scoring a reservation, doesn’t it?”

_ “It kinda defeats the allure of” _ Ginny mocked before crashing onto an armchair in the den. “You really know nothing about proper society, do you? The Ivy is your creme de la creme of locations. You are bound to see multiple celebrities there and you will make at least one tabloid. The fact that Narcissa can have a table on hold shows you the clout that woman still has, even after the war.” 

Ginny took a deeper gulp of the wine and added.

“Find out exactly when you need to go, because I know for a fact you have nothing to wear.” 

*****************

Draco didn’t often visit the manor anymore. He had moved his Sunday teas to various cafes in London, and he’d purchased a flat in London the moment he was released from his house arrest. His mother was happy to continue to be the lady of the manor, but Draco knew he had to visit to ensure his mother wasn’t planning to pass on the crown to some eligible witch anytime soon.

Brushing off the nonexistent dust on his robes, Draco walked through the Floo room and was immediately greeted by an elderly elf in a crisp white dinner napkin. 

“Donor is happy to see the young master home. Madam has requested to take tea in the Gazebo.” Draco nodded in acknowledgment and dismissed the elf promptly. He adjusted his path and started walking towards the Malfoy gardens.

His mother was a vision of a woman, and even nearing 50, she had barely aged a day in his eyes. She was dressed impeccably in expertly pressed periwinkle robes and a pearl-colored pillbox hat. White gloves were placed on the table next to her while she sipped her tea and looked out into the gardens. Narcissa did not turn when Draco arrived but greeted him all the same.

“Draco darling, it is so good to see you home. I just received Nova’s letter about The Ivy reservation and I have procured space for four on Thursday. Invite Theo or Blaise along so the party is appropriate, yes?” Draco smiled and kissed his mother’s cheek. He sat across the small table from her and nodded in greeting as a little house elf with a blue bow in her hair poured him a cup of tea.

“Of course mother. I wouldn’t want to tarnish the reputation of Miss Granger or Nova.”

“Well, yes, and speaking of reputation, Petunia Avery told me that she has convinced her granddaughter to stay for the summer season so she will certainly need you to escort her to the Greengrass Litha garden party this Sunday. Merlin knows that Nova won’t have any time to find a reputable escort if you don’t take her.”

Draco nodded in agreement with his mother, but internally he felt the urge to whine like a child. He had not been home for more than ten minutes and his mother had set him up on a date with Nova for Sunday. Draco had a strong inkling that the Greengrass function would not be the last time his mother tried to meddle with his love life in the next two months either. 

“Yes, I have no issue taking her to the function, but she hasn’t asked me yet.” Draco reasoned with his mother politely but he resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Narcissa responded.

“Oh Draco, don’t be coy. Malfoy men always ask the woman for the dance. Just invite her to go. I honestly thought I raised you well enough to figure out schemes of this caliber on your own.” Narcissa kept her face soft and serene but the tell-tale tapping of her index finger on the cup let Draco know that his mother was not going to let him rebut her demands with halfhearted comebacks.

“I’ll ask her at lunch I suppose. Theo could take Granger then since he can’t take…” Draco paused in silence as his sentence fell through mid-thought. 

Draco knew that his mother was aware of Theo’s proclivities, especially with the ranting that Nott Sr. did throughout the manor during the war. What Draco was unsure of was whether or not his mother knew who Theo was currently dating. 

“I suppose that Granger girl would be a fitting accompaniment to Mr. Nott. But, is she really appropriate for an event of that caliber?” Narcissa said while dabbing the corner of her mouth with a canary yellow handkerchief. 

Draco was wide-eyed at his mother’s statement and stiffened in his chair. “What do you mean appropriate, mother?” 

“Oh, don’t you get all huffy, you look like your grandfather Abraxas. Miss Granger is a fine witch, but very rough around the edges if you will. The Greengrass’ are very traditional and Miss Granger has no breeding at all.” Pausing to sip her tea she continued. 

“If I truly wanted to wish her ill, I would support you fully in telling young Theo to accompany her. Theo isn’t like you Draco, he is a social butterfly at heart. He’d leave her to her own devices and let her fall right into the clutches of someone like Avela LeStrange or Rebecca Rosier. Old dark families that didn’t change their tune once the war turned south.” Narcissa gave Draco a quick glance and he knew this was her way of warning Draco to not push Hermione into the deep end of high society without proper training. 

“I can’t stop Theo or Blaise from asking her to go, especially if I am to escort Nova.” Draco attempted to rationalize that her warning was useless on him. 

“Well, I would keep watch over her, and have Nova nearby; the girl is good for keeping others in her favor.” Narcissa gripped her son's hand before speaking again. 

“You know Rita and I are old classmates. I’ve seen the pictures. Nova is a good match for you. Astoria would also be acceptable.” Narcissa had a way with saying something by what she didn’t say. His mother was warning him. Don’t play with fire, we barely left the last one alive. 

*************

Hermione was finally able to relax alone on Sunday night. Well, as relaxed as one could be elbow deep in books on nonverbal, wandless spells. Plus, it was no ordinary spell, it was a persuasion enchantment. That took time, energy, concentration, a clear mind. It was not something one could just do by accident. 

Hermione has tossed a book in the corner of her room in anger—only to run back and place it on her desk appropriately seconds later— after the 5th book turned up useless. She kept thinking of the line Nova had tossed out. 

_ “You Salem witches do a lot of book reading and wand waving, and not a lot of actual magic...” _

It was like Nova was taunting her methods. Hermione won a bloody war with book reading. Why couldn’t she find the answer to one spell?! She screamed and shut the sixth book closed before hearing a soft tap on her window. 

Looking out, she saw an elegant eagle owl on her window sill. Hermione opened it up and watched the bird proudly saunter onto her desk. Checking the gold name tag on his collar Hermione pursed her lips in thought. 

“Cheron? Like the ferryman of the river Styx? Well, you’re a pretty ferryman I’ll give you that.” Hermione smiled and took the letter out of his beak and immediately recognized Draco’s immaculate calligraphy. It was only done for essays and Auror's final statements. He had a much less formal, but still neat, script for quick notes. It was clearly practiced and Hermione felt a little flattered that her letter would warrant the fancier penmanship. 

The more Hermione admired Draco’s writing the more she realized how much she enjoyed reading his papers. On the rare occasions, they were partnered together, much more so in 8th year, Hermione always relished in Dracos neat penmanship compared to the chicken scratch Ron and Harry tried to get her to read. 

Opening the letter Hermione sat on the bed and started to read his message. 

_ Good evening Granger, _

_ I hope you’re feeling well. Nova’s spells can be quite overwhelming but she doesn’t mean them maliciously; certainly less so than a certain tooth growing hex that was always meant for the Weasel?  _

Hermione giggled at the jab of their past and was happy to have had the realization she had fully gotten over what was once something that tormented her. 

_ My mother has gotten us a table at The Ivy on Thursday for lunch so please schedule a long lunch for that day. I know you will rebut this, but the pygmy puff reformation act or whatever it is you’re promoting can handle you being gone another hour.  _

_ Theo is also coming because my mother refused to let me look like a harlot and I’m liable to be suffocated between both yours and Nova’s hair without witness.  _

_ He said he wants to coordinate your outfits, so I’m going to apologize  _ once  _ now for how much he will bug you about this from now until Thursday. Please just add it then immediately cross it off of the list of things I need to apologize for... while you’re at it add the teeth thing. Your teeth look great now, by the way, I guess your muggle parents are pretty good at their job. I looked up what they did and it looks like torture. I’m impressed.  _

_ I’m assuming you’re going to say yes to lunch on Thursday and Cheron will wait for your reply of yes. No one says no to Draco Malfoy anyway right?  _

_ See you around Granger _

_ -Malfoy _

_ P.S. Don’t let that thing you call a cat around my owl, I am not responsible for its death if it hisses at Cheron.  _

Hermione smiled at the letter, trying to remember the last time she’d gotten one with such stimulating conversation. He was funny, he was informative. She was shocked, he not only remembered what her parents did, but he bothered to look it up. 

Setting down to reply she grabbed a pen.

_ Dear Malfoy, _

Realizing that the statement didn’t feel right, she balled up the parchment and restarted. 

_ Evening Draco, _

_ Don’t you dare insult my cat or I’ll invent a way to hex you via letter... _

  
  



	10. Draco's No Good, Terrible, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it rains.

It started with her response to his letter. 

Hermione simply wanted to give him a little strife for just assuming that she would say yes to lunch—even though she did— but then Draco responded back. He thanked her for her prompt response then chided her on her subpar letter etiquette. He even gave her a book so she could study up ‘ _ like a good little swot’.  _ ‘Letter Conversation for the High Society Witch and Wizard’. He insulted her and educated her. 

At first she was going to leave his response at that. Draco insulted her, as he had done for years, but it was funny and lighthearted. However, on Tuesday she opened the book and saw that Draco had marked passages he found funny. He wrote little notes and told short stories about the sample letters. She was nearly in stitches at a background story he had given to a woman writing to a potential suitor.

“So, who’s the guy? Is he fictional and if so, what’s so attractive about him?” Harry leaned in her doorway with a raised eyebrow and two bottles of ale.

“It’s not fictional. Draco insulted my letter writing skills and gave me a book to teach me. He never does anything half-arsed. wrote funny stories on all the passages. Just look at this one—“ Hermione moved to show Harry a passage on how to write to your enemies when she saw his note and read it aloud.

_ Mother would probably tell me to write Potter and Weasley a letter like this. Although I wonder if Weasley can read? Granger probably reads all his book chapters for him. _

“So Malfoy gave you a textbook he obviously has had since he was in school. I can't tell if you’re more impressed he kept the book in such good condition or if you’re hurt that he didn’t actually spend his entire evening writing cute anecdotes for you.” Harry rolled his eyes and offered her the beer.

Taking a sip from it Hermione pondered Harry’s question. Was it a sweet gesture for him to have given her a book from his childhood or just a spur of the moment decision? Either way it touched Hermione to have the book from his collection. Looking up from the book she saw that Harry was shuffling through the letters on her desk.

“So since when were you and Malfoy in a Notebook relationship? Is one of these going to say “If you're a bird I’m a bird?” Harry teased her holding up one of them only for Hermione to snatch it away.

“Harry, stop. Number one, I highly doubt that Draco even knows who Nicolas Sparks is. You only know because Ginny and I read the book in anticipation of the movie coming out next year. Number two, it’s just banter. He is the go-between for a lunch date Nova, Theo, he and I have, and I like dealing with someone intelligent for once”

“Hermione, you’ve called Malfoy ‘Draco’ twice just now, twice. You’ve kept every letter he’s written and you’re going to lunch with him; he’s inviting you to parties at his friends’ houses. Honestly, I would consider you turning into a Slytherin if I didn't know you better.”

“Harry,” Hermione rolled her eyes and patted an empty spot on her bed. “Draco and I are just friends.”

“Three times.”

“I will hex you.”

“Continue.” Harry chuckled and sat next to Hermione on her bed

“Yes, I am hanging out with him more but he’s surprisingly nice, and funny, and he’s always been smart. It’s tough finding someone who doesn’t mind me going on a tangent about the most eclectic of subjects. Plus, I never have to dumb down anything I say to him.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione's explanation and scratched a corner of his jaw. He had been growing his beard for the past year and it finally looked decent all around. 

“Hermione, I don’t need you to defend Malfoy. I had to do it over and over and  _ over _ again when he became my partner. He’s a right good bloke. I’ve had a beer or two with him before, and so if you want to be friends with Malfoy, that’s not something you need to explain to me.” Pausing to look at the book that was sitting on Hermione’s nightstand, Harry sighed.

“But it doesn’t sound like you want to be just friends with him. I won’t stop you if you decide you want to date him, but I know a couple of people in our lives that will not be so happy that you fancy him.” 

Harry and Draco were an evolving story. If either of them were gay, their obsession with one another would have certainly turned into a romance for the ages. When Draco finished his 8th year at Hogwarts and the subsequent six months of house arrest everyone was shocked to see his name under the list of junior Aurors. 

He turned out to be the perfect Auror for Harry, even if he wasn't exactly the perfect example of an Auror on his own. He had a strong sense of self-preservation that in certain pairings would’ve made him one to drag his feet in cases. However, with Harry’s inability to think anything through, Draco often had to come in with a plan on the spot and the pairing turned out to have record-breaking results. 

They also were known to have screaming matches in the middle of the bullpen. 

But, just like she had changed since the war so had Harry and Draco. The first time Draco saved Harry’s life the blonde said it was a thank you for shortening his sentence in Azkaban. 

The second time Draco said it was for Dumbledore and his actions 6th year. 

The third time Draco supposedly called it even, and the fourth time Harry bought him a beer. The two now had a running gag on who owes the other the most pints at the end of the month. Things had died down recently but apparently picked back up just in time for Draco to be suspended from the force. 

Hermione wondered if Harry missed having his partner beside him. She probably would have delved further into that thought when a drop of condensation from the beer bottle hit her leg and she realized she had been staring silently at him for quite some time. 

“Harry I—“ Hermione tried to stammer out but Harry shook his head and said,

“Don’t lie to me ‘Mione. You fancy Malfoy, don’t you?” 

All Hermione could do was nod her head yes. She had completely run out of excuses. Draco was good looking. Tall, lean, with broad shoulders and a pianist’s fingers. He was always impeccably dressed. No one dressed like Draco Malfoy did, and Hermione had noticed that even at Hogwarts. 

He was intelligent, second in their year right behind her, and he frequently bested her in potions. They were partners for Slughorn’s potion class nearly all of 8th year and the number of times she was stunned at his brilliance was more than she could count on her hands. He was also a brilliant quidditch player. It seemed that Harry was his only weakness and when he was asked to coach the team 7th and 8th year, Slytherin won the championship both times. He was clearly a good friend. The way that Pansy and Theo seemed to rely and count on him made her heart swell. 

Then there was Harry. A part of her still felt that he had some leftover prejudices towards Draco, but they had been working on cases together for over a year, even before the suspension. She’d seen him laughing with Draco on the rare occasions their cases involved magical creatures. Draco seemed to fit right in beside Harry. 

When Hermione looked at her friend and roommate she saw a strange look in his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing much, just good luck Hermione,” Harry smirked and stood up to walk out of her room. 

“You’re gonna need it.”

*********************

“Draco, love, so you’re telling me you’re going to The Ivy for lunch tomorrow and you aren’t taking me? Why I’ve never been more betrayed in my life.” Pansy pouted while she pinned the hem of a garment for the famous author Candlenut. Siobhan Candlenut was a soft-spoken blonde girl from Cary, but she told such riveting stories that she was the first person both Draco and Pansy wanted to be a Parkinson witch.

“Are ye two together?” She asked looking down from the podium at Draco. He was perched on his designated spot on the couch while he waited for their financial meeting to start.

“No love, we aren’t. Pansy is just possessive of my time, energy, and effort.”

“That and The Ivy has the best sea bass this side of the Chunnel.” Pansy pouted as she stood back, looking at the cream linen pants she had dressed Candlenut in. The blonde woman had pixie-Esq features and Pansy wanted to bring those out with an earthy vibe to her look.

“I’m not really one for fancy dinners, or lunches in this case. But I do love a nice sea bass.” The author uttered softly. 

“See, Candlenut agrees with me. Draco this is a harsh betrayal and I won’t forgive you for this until my birthday. On which occasion you will owe me the biggest present you’ve ever given me.” Pansy huffed while putting the final touches on the waistline of Candlenut’s Jumpsuit. 

“There! You’re all set.” Pansy grinned as she stood up straight. 

“My word you’ve got a tiny waist. I know half a dozen models that would kill for your measurements.”

“But would they handle my stage-fright and 5’3 status?” Candlenut questioned as Draco held out a hand to walk her off the platform. 

“My dear, even then they would commit atrocities for one inch closer to your waistline,” Draco smirked. He kissed her hand and led her out of the office and into the hands of two dressers. 

“I like her Pansy. She’s demure but not a doormat. Why can’t models be like her?”

“Because Draco,” Pansy rolled her eyes as she packed up her alterations kit. “Models can’t be petite quiet authors. Merlin, I thought it was just Granger you fancied, but swots of all breeds do it for you don’t they?” She teased sticking out her tongue.

“Then  _ why _ pray-tell was I into you Pansy love?” Draco questioned with a raise of his eyebrow as he sat back down. 

“Draco, we both know you could bounce a galleon off my arse and I do things to you no other girl would even dare.”

“Must you be so crude so early in the morning?” Draco sneered though his face fell into a smile soon after. 

“Crude would be me pointing out how you didn’t rebut me saying, you fancy Granger. Crude would be me wondering if you fantasied about her on all fours begging to suck your hard throbbing co-“

“Come off it Parkinson, I’m not in the mood. Now tell me Drabek is coming on Sunday for her final fitting or I’m going to have a fit so legendary my father will literally hear it all the way in Azkaban.” Draco slapped the files he was holding for the meeting on the table and Pansy noticeably flinched in response. 

“Touchy, touchy fine. I’ll lay off since you’re on your rag this week. And about Drabek. I have her, but it’s not on Sunday.” 

“And when did you procure Miss Drabek, the heir to a very powerful vampire family and a very touchy woman to deal with?” Draco asked lowly while raising an eyebrow, his voice eerily similar to that of the late Snape

“Saturday at noon,” Pansy stated stiffly. “It was the only time she was free.”

“So when are we rescheduling Granger?” 

“To Saturday, at 4.”

“And Fenrir’s photoshoot is still Saturday at 6. All of which I’m required to be in attendance for because you have horrible PR skills?” Draco commented with a click of his tongue. 

“Naturally.” 

Draco stood up at that and started to walk out of the office. 

“Draco where are you going? This meeting isn’t over!”

Holding his hand on the doorknob Draco scoffed. 

“You bet your galleon bouncing arse it is. I just realized I have an important meeting with my liver I can’t miss.” 

************

When Thursday morning arose Hermione knew it was going to be a good day. She woke up precisely at 8:00 am a soft rain clatter against her windowpane. She leisurely stepped out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen to start the coffee pot before returning to her bedroom to get dressed. 

Hermione loved the rain. The soft sounds of the droplets becoming the soundtrack of her morning made her feel a centered type of energetic. She brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Rain meant that she was better off having her hair up. Not having to worry about taming her curls allowed her to spend less time getting ready. 

Her favorite dress was back from the dry cleaners and she was able to slip into the comfortable cotton frock. She then decided to use the extra time she saved on her hair by applying just the slightest bit of makeup. 

It was no later than 8:25 when Hermione was sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, two slices of toast with apple butter, and The Guardian crossword. She had a smile on her face as she discovered the answer to number 19 down. 

“A four-letter word for a s-s-snake sound.... hiss.”

***********

Draco Malfoy was having an absolutely wretched excuse of a morning. He had been up half the night trying to deal with exactly how to handle Nova being in his life again. He didn’t wake up till 8:00 am, a full two hours late. Draco immediately jumped out of his bed. Checking up on Cheron, who was waiting for him rather impatiently, he quickly wrote his broker the standard updates of how he wanted Malfoy Holdings to run and any questions he had for the mergers he had ticking currently, knowing that his broker must have been pissed to have been kept waiting so long.

After that was done Draco noticed that it was raining outside and cursed loudly. The rain reminded him that he slept so late he had no time to get his morning swim laps in, so he would be irritable. Increasing the intensity of his cursing, Draco hopped into the shower and cast a simple drying spell for his hair.

It took twice as long to fix his hair into that just-ever-so-slightly disheveled look he was known for and he had absolutely no time to do it. The drying spell, though quicker, left his hair slightly fluffy and would turn into an absolute mess in the humidity of the rain. 

Glaring at his closet because most of his clothes were at the Manor for cleaning—and he had no time to pick them up— he donned a simple dress shirt and trousers. Settling on muggle suspenders to dress up his look a bit, Draco glanced at the clock and realized he had just enough time for a cup of tea and the Daily Prophet crossword. 

Running down the stairs, Draco looked at his window sill to find no morning prophet waiting. Stepping out into his small front lawn to see if it had been set on the front step like a muggle paper, he only found the morning’s edition of The Guardian, a muggle paper who’s subscription he had no clue how to cancel or forward to the past owner of his townhome. 

Grabbing the muggle paper, Draco stepped back inside, furious. He was fully about to send the prophet a scathing howler when he realized he had started sending his copy of the paper to Parkinson’s. Pansy kept him waiting with such consistency that he always had time to read the paper there. 

Flicking his wand to start the kettle, Draco moved to see if The Guardian had a decent quick crossword. It was tolerable enough, he even felt pride at remembering that muggles called it arithmetic not arithmancy. 

“What in Salazar’s name is a Mercedes?”

*************

  
  


Hermione walked up to the lobby of the ministry with a smile still on her face. The calm rain hadn’t stopped all day and she had been making great progress in her Mermaid communications rights bill. 

Draco had sent her a note to meet her at the visitors' entrance so he could escort her to The Ivy. Theo and Nova would meet them there. When Hermione turned the corner she got a good look at Draco. 

He looked a little wet. Shielding charms were finicky once you got closer to the ministry and it was just better all-around to carry an umbrella. However, the way that his dress shirt clung to his frame made Hermione thankful for Draco’s decision. 

It was at that moment she realized Draco rarely was without robes, or at least a three-piece suit. Seeing him in a white Oxford and suspenders was as casual an outfit for Draco as if she had seen him at the beach. 

The suspenders clung to broad shoulders. The dampness of his shirt meant she could just barely make out his defined pecks. Draco ran a hand through his hair and a single raindrop fell off a silvery blond strand, down a perfectly straight nose, and settled at the top of a soft pink lip. Hermione felt more entranced now than she ever did under Nova’s spell. She was barely conscious of anything but him as he walked towards her. 

“There you are Granger, let’s get out of here. I hate the bloody rain, I always Flooded everywhere when it rained. Stupid bloody suspension making me have to use the phone booth like a peasant.” Giving her a once over Draco raised a singular brow in approval before offering his arm for her to take. 

“Nice that only one of us looks like a drowned ferret today. I wonder if Chef Nadine would let me Floo to the manor and change while we wait for the main course?” He thought out loud. 

Hermione gasped in awe. “Did you just make a ferret joke?” 

Draco cringed at her inquiry and blew air through his nostrils like a testy dragon. 

“It appears I have Granger. Must have been a slip of the tongue.”

Leaving the ministry, Hermione just knew that today was going to be the best day ever. 

Draco feared as they left the ministry that today would be the shittiest day ever. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY.
> 
> Also, for those of you that have a Tumblr. follow me at riane-b13. I post Behind the Chapters that include fashion inspirations, interior designs, and fancasts.


	11. Tea and Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they eat soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This deserves a double thanks to missELY. I was super super late in writing this chapter. Writers block can sometimes suck so much. However, we did it and were able to upload on time!!

Hermione offered her umbrella to Draco, but he insisted on using a shielding charm against the rain. She rolled her eyes at his resistance to use muggle technology, even if the magic was less reliable. The two walked out of the ministry and into the London rain.

It was a short walk to the apparition point to get to Diagon Alley. Draco reluctantly took her offer of an umbrella once they got into muggle London. 

“I cannot believe you wore white on a day like this Granger. You’re practically asking for men to ogle you.” 

Hermione scoffed and took back her umbrella. Draco was immediately soaked with the summer rainstorm and Hermione held back the giggle that rose to the back of her throat.

“Very classy of you Granger, all I meant was I didn’t think you’d choose to wear something see-through when it’s raining toads today.” Draco rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

The chuckle that Hermione wanted to express died at the sight of Draco Malfoy soaking wet in a white Oxford and suspenders. Water dripped down from tendrils of white-blonde hair to broad shoulders and defined cheekbones. The chilly rain left his lips just this side of blush. It was funny, he was criticizing her for wearing something see-through, but he was very close to giving her an exact outline of the abs that Hermione did not know he still had. 

Hearing a whistle Hermione turned her head sharply; there was a pretty brunette under an umbrella. Hermione was about to roll her eyes and comment that another girl was practically falling over herself for Draco when Hermione saw the brunette give her a thumbs up. It shocked Hermione for a moment before she realized that the brunette assumed Draco was her boyfriend. That a random stranger would look at the two of them and think ‘Oh, they’re boyfriend and girlfriend.’ 

Hermione shivered at the feeling of Draco’s hand on her arm but relaxed shortly and soon enough Draco had side-arm apparated them into Wizarding London. Draco cast a drying charm on himself the second they entered the busy establishment of The Leaky Cauldron, but it left his clothes wrinkled and his hair wasn’t fully dried by the spell. Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror, his frown depended into a scowl. Checking his watch, Draco sighed. 

“Come on let’s go. If we make it to The Ivy soon, I’ll have time to run home and change.” Hermione smiled and walked with him, noticing the oversized shielding charm the second they stepped outside.

***********

The Ivy was part of the old section of Diagon Alley and the restaurant was covered in the namesake plant. Walking into the restaurant, Hermione took a single look at the people chatting quietly in the elegant dining room and she wished she had taken Ginny’s offer to raid the redhead’s closet. Everyone in attendance exuded practiced elegance or the cutting edge of fashion. She even spotted Theo in a corner table to their left. 

The duo walked up to the maitre’d and the woman gasped. “Mister Malfoy I’m terribly sorry the rain has affected your exquisite ensemble. Please allow me to escort you to our Floos and show Miss Granger your table.”

“Oh, that sounds splendid Madeline. Were we the last to arrive?” Draco asked. 

Hermione nearly shook her head at how even soaked to the bone, Draco had a commanding presence. Any room Draco walked into was his and no one else’s. 

“We are still waiting for Miss Avery to arrive, Mister Malfoy. Chef Nadine is so happy to have you here for lunch.” The maitre’d informed Draco. She was acting as if the restaurant was owned by the Malfoys. 

Draco was someone who always had to be the leader. At first, Hermione thought it was a bossiness to him that made him incapable of following. Yet, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized Draco was given power more often than he asked for it. Once given power, Draco made it seem like there couldn't be anyone else who could fill the role.

Hermione wanted to ask him how he achieved such an effect so seamlessly. However, as they approached Theo Draco gave her a short bow and left to change.

Theo looked dapper. He was dressed in a midnight blue vest and a dress shirt that had gold detailing of the night sky, complete with constellations,

“My dear you look ravishing in white. I’m almost inclined to forgive you for not allowing me the privilege of knowing what you were wearing so I could dress accordingly. I would have never pulled off an all-white look.” Theo sighed as he adjusted his glasses. He pulled her in to kiss the sides of both of her cheeks. 

“I am envious of you and Blaise. That Italian heritage does wonders for your skin. You are part Italian yes? You must be. Well anyway, I love what you’re wearing. You are an absolute vision in white. A stark contrast to this dreary day. 

Hermione laughed and she sat down across from him after he pulled her chair out for her. “You guessed correctly. My grandmother on my mother’s side is Sicilian. I’ll have to ask where the Zabini family comes from.” She sat comfortably and removed the cover from her water glass. Hermione smiled as the glass filled itself up. Small acts of magic that were mundane to the likes of Draco and Theo still fascinated Hermione, just like her first trip to Diagon alley all those years ago. 

“Draco actually said the same thing, but it was really his fault. He refused to use an umbrella. Shielding charms, even ones as harmless as one for blocking the rain, don’t work well close to the wards.”

“Draco’s stubbornness is one of his more powerful traits. But I am happy to know that our efforts in adding the word ferret into our daily vernacular have finally started to work on him.” Theo chuckled and sipped white wine that had been poured for him earlier.

“Our?” Hermione questioned. Theo silently gestured, asking if she wanted a glass. He called a waiter over with a lift of his pinky. 

“It was Blaise’s idea. We were reminiscing on old times and remembered the time Moody transfigured Draco into a ferret. While the actual event was catastrophic and Draco could’ve lost the use of his right arm, we like the idea of Draco having a ferret as his animagus. We know that's a popular method for Aurors to get a Department of Mysteries promotion so Blaise, Pansy, and I have been dropping hints as to what would be a good choice for him to turn into.

Hermione went through a whirlwind of emotions and her eyes grew wide at Theo’s statement. Harry and Ron had always insisted that Draco was faking his injuries that year. To hear that they were actually so severe made her feel a little guilty in hindsight. That Draco was looking to transfer to the Department of Mysteries was also shock to her and Hermione furrowed her brows. Harry had just gotten the position as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Malfoy was the only person that could handle the role of Head Auror. 

Crossing her arms Hermione questioned Theo mockingly.“So how on earth do you know anything about the process or criteria for getting into the Department of Mysteries?”

“Three words Miss Granger. I’m. A. Nott.” Theo spoke with accompanying fingers to count.

“There isn’t a single thing in the dark or mysterious part of the world that I haven't touched. I’ve got more relatives that have been Head Unspeakable than you've read books. I’ve probably seen more of the black market than you've ever read about.” His voice took a darker tone to it, and for a moment Hermione didn’t recognize Theo. This man was sharp, conniving, and he looked like he’d seen things that would keep even her awake at night. Hermione straightened in her chair as he continued.

"There’s an entire underbelly of society you and your bright eyes haven’t even imagined. You are sitting here in tourist spots like The Ivy and Flourish ’n’ Blotts, thinking that everything you need to learn about the Wizarding world could be found in _Hogwarts a History_ . Why, less than a month ago you hadn't even heard about _the_ Rowena Ravenclaw Book Club. How much would I win if I bet you hadn’t even spent more than five minutes in Knockturn Alley? Draco and I used to spend hours there as children. There’s a bookshop there with books that date back over a thousand years available for purchase. I bet you hadn't even stepped a foot in it.” Theo leaned back, and Hermione felt the blush on her face as she shook her head.

The smile on Theo’s face returned and with a simple sip of his wine, his persona switched back to the energetic socialite Hermione had come to know. Although she was a bit warier now on who Theo really was. Especially if he could alter his personality so drastically and so quickly.

“It’s quite alright Miss Granger. I’ll be sure to take you someday soon. Maybe the next time I need to pick up a book we’ll make a day of it.”

“Make a day of what?” A voice from behind her asked and Hermione turned to see Nova Avery standing there with a smile on her face.

Hermione had no idea how Nova had snuck up on her so easily. Ever since the war, Hermione had become hyper-aware of the people around her. There were only a few people that she didn’t keep constant vigilance on, like Ron, Harry, Ginny, and more recently Draco. Nova definitely didn't make that list, so how did she do it? 

Hermione trailed her eyes down Nova’s hair, which was pulled back like hers was. She looked past the black raincoat that was draped over her shoulders; past the simple green blouse and leather pencil skirt and all the way down to the six-inch stilettos the model wore on her feet. 

Nova’s cushioning charm skills must have been amazing. For her to be able to walk in the rain in those shoes and to walk silently at that. It was a skill that should be weaponized. Though, Hermione felt that Nova was already applying that ideology. Something about her didn’t sit right. Even as she sat next to Theo, and smiled brightly at the two of them, Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that Nova was hiding something. 

“Oh, nothing but a bit of errand chatter. How have you been, love? It’s been what 12, 13 years since we’ve seen one another?” Theo brushed off her question with a dismissive wave of his hand as he stood and helped her into her chair. 

“Just about. I think the last time I saw you was on Draco’s tenth birthday. We had gotten him the same gift.” Nova chuckled but the smile on her face felt sickly, like a poisoned apple. The strained smile on Theo’s face only amplified Hermione’s bad feeling. 

“Oh yes. I still have no idea how you were able to get an advanced copy of that comic book when the author was my cousin via marriage.” Theo laughed off his statement like it was nothing, but the harsh glint in his eyes made her think that she wasn’t the only one who was suspicious of Nova’s return to Draco’s life. 

Draco himself appeared shortly after, dressed in black robes and a black dress shirt, buttoned up to his neck. His hair still looked a little tousled, but Hermione enjoyed that little bit of chaos in his otherwise put-together form. 

“I’m terribly sorry for my tardiness. You’ll have to excuse me. I was not about to sit through lunch soaking wet.” Draco expressed with a bow before sitting beside Hermione and completing the table. 

“Draco darling, it’s nothing. I just arrived myself. We haven’t even ordered the starters. Theo and I were just talking about how long it’s been since we saw each other last. Though it’s been quite some time since we’ve talked as well, Draco.”

Draco got that empty look in his eyes at her comment and Hermione felt something itching at the back of her mind. His look meant something. It was the kind of blank spot that would torment her until she found it. However, currently, she had no clue. 

“Yes, it’s been about seven years since I saw you last. Funny how time flies.” Draco let out a short huff of a laugh before calling over the server. 

“Anyway, we aren’t here to talk about me. I assumed you were here to get to know Miss Granger?” Draco gestured to Hermione, and she would have been an idiot not to recognize such blatant defection. However, Nova seemed to take the bait. 

“Oh my spirits, you’re right. Hermione Granger, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to meet you. Please, tell me what your plan is for the treatment of house-elves in the Wizarding U.K.?”

Hermione was gobsmacked Nova’s first question. It was current, relevant to her job, and had nothing to do with the war. Hermione had gotten so used to questions about the war, that she nearly had produced a pamphlet with the top ten most commonly asked questions for the Golden Trio. 

Hermione cleared her throat while trying to come up with a well-worded response. 

“My plan for a house-elf reformation act is tri-fold. The first step in my plan —which is coming into place in the new year—is a registration card for elves. It gives them proper identification, as they have no wands. This gives them the ability to get bank accounts, create a business, or buy a home. Being free should be a choice for many elves and I believe a choice and elf should be able to make at any time. However, if the elves have no ability to take care of themselves, then it isn’t much of a choice.” Hermione finished with a sigh and looked at the others at her table; she realized that Nova wasn’t the only one who was interested in what she had to say. Theo and Draco both seemed to be considering her statement. 

Draco was the first to speak up. “Granger, aren’t you afraid this will get not get passed? There are a lot of old families that don’t want you to mess with their centuries-old relationship with their house-elves.”

“Of course you wouldn’t approve of it.” Hermione rolled her eyes, recalling the treatment of Dobby, who had been a Malfoy house-elf. “The card would be for all elves regardless of if they are freed. It would allow them to have the same rights wizards have in domestic abuse cases. I know that some elves are so deluded that they do not wish to be free but—“

“Stop. Before that big brain of yours makes any more assumptions, neither Theo nor I are our fathers. Theo freed all of his house elves, and the two that refused to be freed were a child and mother. Theo pays them both handsomely and they are very happy. The ministry tried to forcibly free all Malfoy elves and it nearly caused a rebellion. Just as the Malfoy line is old and noble, so is the clan of our house-elves. I have house-elves that reared my grandfather, and to put them out would be putting out a member of my household. I pay my elves because I want them to have the best of what they desire; but as long as they wish, they have a place in Malfoy Manor.” Draco huffed and took a long sip of the wine Theo had poured him. 

“I see you still haven’t learned the lesson the Hogwarts elves tried to teach you when you did this before, at school.” Draco raised an eyebrow in conclusion. Yet again, Hermione felt the familiar sting of a well-placed insult from Draco Malfoy. 

“Well then... We shall have to show her our ways then right Draco?” Theo tried to soothe the harsh energy that Hermione and Draco had achieved. 

“Oh Theo, that’s perfect. The Greengrass party is on Sunday. We should invite her. You have the ability to invite a guest don’t you?” Nova questioned with a smile. Hermione felt whiplash at the prospect of being told she was insulting pureblood culture and then invited to a soirée in practically the same breath. 

“Oh Nova, that’s a wonderful idea. The tea party isn’t too formal. She would be free to chat and discuss, and Daphne likes all of our generation to sit together so she’d be with her peers.” Theo grinned. Hermione wondered when she had agreed to go. 

“Nova?” Draco asked softly. “This will be your return to society as well. Do you have an escort for the event? It would be inappropriate if you arrived alone.” 

Nova shook her head no and managed to look more shy and sheepish than Hermione thought was possible of the bubbly American.

“No matter, I’ll escort you. I’m sure my mother wouldn’t have it any other way than for a Malfoy to bring the Averys back into proper society.” Draco answered for her and Hermione felt a twist in her stomach that felt like jealousy. She didn’t like the feeling and quickly shook it off. 

The starters of butternut squash with fresh summer scallions appeared on the table with a sparkle and Hermione gasped slightly to see Hogwarts magic used outside of those hallowed halls. 

Seeing her shock Theo chucked. “Miss Granger, who have you been spending time with since Hogwarts? Even as a Muggle-Born you seem so sheltered from commonplace spells.”

“Isn’t it obvious Nott?” Draco smirked before sipping his soup with the practiced elegance of a fairytale prince. “These spells are commonplace, in restaurants that can afford the upkeep or are ancient enough to have house-elf staff. Weasel certainly wasn’t taking her to proper establishments.”

“Malfoy!” Hermione hissed. 

“Love, he’s your ex, and as your friends, Theo and I have a contractual obligation to bash him for not treating you like the queen you are. Merlin, you’ve saved the world more times than you can count on your hand, and the git didn’t have the breeding to take you anywhere decent.” 

Hermione’s mouth opened to rebut his statement but she closed it suddenly. She felt so conflicted by Draco’s statement and it nearly gave her a headache to consider.

“if you’ll excuse me, I need to powder my nose.” Hermione stood and sauntered off to the ladies' room.

***************************

She had never felt so conflicted. Draco was insulting Ron, and while they weren’t together Ron was still a dear friend of hers. However, it didn’t seem like his purpose was to insult him just for the sake of insulting him, but more so defending the quality of wizard she deserved to date. It was like he was angry for her rather than angry at Ron. ‘A _s your friends, Theo and I have a contractual obligation to bash him for not treating you like the queen you are’_

Friends? Did he consider them friends? Biting her lip in the mirror before running the faucet to splash her face Hermione tried to clear her head. She supposed that Draco and she were friends. It was what she had been insisting since the summer began. However, to hear him say it out loud felt so intimate.

Getting a few more splashes in to clear her conflicted heart and mind Hermione missed the sound of the door open, so the sharp/sweet/adjective voice startled her

“Never did I think my competition would be the Golden Girl herself.” 

  
  



	12. Well Mannered Women Rarely Make History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where the plot starts ACTUALLY going somewhere.

_“Never did I think my competition would be the Golden Girl herself.”_

Hermione stood up straight as she registered a voice. Her hand reached for her purse. Her wand was partially drawn when she realized it was Nova who had surprised her. Hermione cursed under breath at the fact that the darker-skinned woman snuck up on her again. 

“I’m sorry, your competition?” Hermione questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh wow, Draco was right, Gryffindors are horrible liars. Well, I’ll forgive you for it this once. Just let you know, the history we have spans decades. His father and mine were the best of friends in school. His mother loves me. I grew up in his world and all of the many, many rules that come with it. I let him go because I thought his path and mine had drifted. However, it seems like they were aligned all along. I really wouldn’t want you to worry your brilliant mind trying to court him. Dating someone like Draco is as much of a commitment as dating the Crown Prince of the United Kingdom. Draco does appearances, he sponsors charities. His family business is to own other businesses. Don’t you have better causes to fight for rather than give those up for the full-time job it is to date Draco?” Nova smiled and sauntered closer to Hermione as if she was a swan gliding along a pool of water.

The model was over six feet tall in heels and Hermione’s petite status did nothing to feed into her confidence at this confrontation. Did Nova really think Draco and her were dating? Or at least that she was considerable competition? Hermione shook her head roughly and studdered out nonsense before uttering, “I’m sorry Nova, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, now you’re just insulting me. I may not be ‘the brightest witch of her age’ but I’m not an idiot. I’m telling you out of respect for you and your work, don’t try and play with Draco unless you’re serious. I will be your competitor and I have the home-field advantage. His friends know me, the other mothers know me. I was born in their society. You were the little witch that put their husbands in prison.” Nova answered sweetly, flippantly, as if she was talking about where she bought her chapstick.

Gasping at Nova’s statement, Hermione hissed out. “Are you really so crass as to think that would be a stain on my character?” 

“I think you don’t know the first thing about pureblood society let alone dating one of them. The Averys and the Malfoys are household names, practically nobility in England, and have been for centuries, not just the last three years.”

“Last I checked Wizards didn’t subscribe to a monarchy. So your analogy, while mixed and quaint, is flawed.” Hermione hissed in response.

A part of Hermione’s brain wanted to assure Nova that they weren’t dating. Another part wanted to express that Draco wasn’t some prize to be won. However, both of those parts were being overshadowed by a voice in her head yelling out that she was good enough for anything and everything. That she wouldn’t be denied without being given a chance. Nova accusing her of failing before she had even tried the task was core to everything Hermione hated about Draco, and if the man himself had started to consider her worthy of being in his life, then Hermione was not about to let some stranger dictate her choices/future.

“I don’t know what fantasy you live in. But whoever Draco wants to be with will be his decision. The man I know—because I’ve talked to him more than once every seven years—doesn’t let some past promise define his desires now.”

Not letting her respond, Hermione turned her back to Nova with a sharp rise of her nose and sauntered back to the table and smiled at the boys. 

“Oh Miss Granger, you work for the ministry, you can give me some proof that Draco is an idiot. Please tell him that the size of a Portkey has no bearing on the travel quality.” Theo said with a grin they both stood and Draco pulled out her chair again. Hermione noticed once she sat that they had stopped eating while she was gone. Gentlemen to the bone. The gesture touched her as much as she found it strange.

“Granger, please tell the civilian here that a larger Portkey is overwhelmingly smoother and much easier for large parties to use.”

“Draco I make bloody Portkeys! I think I know whether or not it would be better to make a Portkey out of a ring or a book.” Theo huffed and stood again once Nova returned to the table. The other woman was seemingly unaffected by her and Hermione’s earlier row.

“You make Portkeys?” Hermione questioned as she resumed eating her soup, surprised that it was still warm.

“I have a mastery in Magical Technology. My current love affair of a project is trying to create a time turner. It’ll take me years to get right but then I’ll be the first man in a century to have crafted one.” Theo grinned.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I admit I never showed much talent in engineering, but you should work for the ministry. I’m sure we could use someone with your skills.” Hermione responded eagerly to Theo with a nod of her head.

Draco chuckled at Hermione’s statement and patted her hand with his left like he was silencing his wife for interrupting the men. “Granger, remind me to ask what engineering is later but I have to point out the absurdity in your statement. It’s more likely that there will be a Malfoy in Hufflepuff before Theo has a job at the ministry.”

“Highly bureaucratic levels of authority doesn’t sit well with my constitution. But if you ever need to purchase a Portkey for a vacation or something off the books let me know. I’d happily be of service to you Miss Granger. 

“Oh, that’s actually wonderful Theo. I have a few meetings in New York I have to attend so I’ll have to owl you on how I can utilize your services.” Nova smiled and while Theo smiled in return Hermione swore she saw him strain it for just a moment. 

“Of course Nova, anything for an Avery.”

**********************

The lunch went well for the most part and the chatter between them was light. After the starters, there was the main course, the most delicious squid ink pasta that Hermione had ever had in her life. For dessert the four of them split a mini lemon tart that was itself almost worth the obscene bill Draco paid without blinking an eye, and then the four of them stood to leave. Nova had an appointment to get to and Theo offered to escort Hermione back to the ministry in Draco’s stead.

The two walked through Diagon Alley in pleasant silence. Theo insisted on sharing his large umbrella rather than try to walk side to side with separate umbrellas.

“Theo, may I ask you a question?” 

“I’d consider you to be an imposter if you didn’t have at least one question for me Miss Granger.” Theo winked at her and turned his head towards the road again.

“Is there some weird history between you and Nova? I may have just been reading too much into things but it seemed like—“

“I don’t like Nova, no. However, I think most of that stems from childhood rivalry. We were both childhood friends with Draco, and we often fought for the title of ‘best friend’. I probably had my fair share of jealousy in the romantic title Nova had that I could never touch. You never forget your first right?” Theo laughed and Hermione felt a twinge of pain for him.

“You were in love with Draco?” Hermione asked softly.

“Oh, terribly. After my mother died my entire world was Draco for a long while. I very nearly thought I would die if Draco didn’t return my affections during 4th year. That got put on hold though once my father was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Narcissa took me in like I was her second son. I’ve been invited to every holiday, she picked me up and dropped me off every time I went to platform 9 and 3/4. It was like I had already married into the family. When I knew Draco could never return my advances, there was a part of me that thought I’d never be able to find someone to love that would love me as much as the Malfoys did.” Theo was silent for a beat but continued before Hermione could come up with something to say.

“I’ve gotten over it now, and I’m very happy with Neville. He grounds me.” Despite the happy tone to Theo’s voice and statement, there was a sadness in his eyes that Hermione didn’t know what to do with. 

Apparently she wouldn’t have to as Theo quickly added,“let’s play hooky Miss Granger. I’m sure Neville would love to have us for a spot of tea. He’ll probably even be in my greenhouses. I never prep it properly for the rain.” Theo looked at her with a Cheshire grin, and a huge part of her wanted to abandon her duties and spend the evening with Theo and Neville.

“I can’t. It sounds wonderful, honest, but I do need to get some work done at the ministry. It’s been too long already.” She smiled at him sadly, and Theo quickly kissed her hand.

“It’s no worries. I’ll owl you about the Greengrass party on Sunday, and please allow me the honor of purchasing your dress for the event.”

“Oh Theo, I can’t let you do that.” Hermione blushed and pulled a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, I want to. I’d love to see you shine Hermione. Plus, as I said, I don’t like Nova, and I refuse to be out dressed by her and Draco.” He bit his lip mischievously before whispering in her ear. “I’m a gay man taking the Golden Girl to a pureblood party. My goal is to start a riot. Be my Helen of Troy and start a war with me?” Theo asked, and Hermione could see that he needed this as much as she did.

Theo had a boyfriend. He had a pureblood boyfriend, and he wasn’t allowed to bring his significant other. The fact that it was more acceptable to bring Hermione—someone who had no pedigree, despite all her fame—as opposed to his boyfriend, was baffling. 

Hermione’s heart went out for Theo in the way he had to hide who he really was but before long they had reached a safe apparition point and Hermione nodded in agreement to join him in his declaration of war.

“Perfect. You’ll be my little project. I’ll Eliza Doolittle you, and turn you into everything they think you can’t be. Only for you to still be 100% yourself.” He grinned and opened her umbrella for her, holding it out so that she could escape his grasp without getting wet. Theo’s smile got wider and before she stepped away from him, he kissed her cheek while squeezing her wrist fondly.

“Eliza Doolittle? You know My Fair Lady.” Hermione questioned with a raise of her eyebrow. Purebloods as a whole were quite sheltered, and the Notts were some of the staunchest according to Ron. Hermione would have never guessed Theo knew anything about muggle culture, let alone the Audrey Hepburn rendition of Pygmalion. 

“Of course I do, Miss Granger. I know about a lot of muggle things. I even own a car, a non-enchanted car. Though that is something I’m working on fixing.”

Theo bowed to Hermione before turning away and Hermione felt like she had just agreed to go to battle. This one would be different though. Maybe Hermione wasn’t done fighting injustice when she graduated Hogwarts, maybe she just wanted a different kind of fight.

********************

“Draco, darling, it’s been so long since we’ve been alone together.” Nova smiled at Draco as the two walked down the streets of Wizarding London. The rain had lightened up considerably, but Draco was not taking any chances. He routinely strengthened his shielding charm and ensured it was wide enough to cover the both of them.

“Yes, it has been,” Draco replied softly, politely. He wasn’t ready to deal with Nova and their past quite yet. He wanted to at least get through the Greengrass function with everyone happy and healthy and not trying to hex him into the veil.

“You’re spacing out, darling. Any further disassociating Draco, and I would consider you to be using occlumency against me.” Nova chuckled, and the way Draco froze caused Nova to stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Draco, you learned it didn’t you? Loa, pray witness, I bet you’re a legilimens as well.” Nova rolled her eyes, and Draco knew that meant she was irritated she didn’t also have the skill.

“Draco about what happened back then—“ Nova tried to say.

“Don’t.” Draco pulled her hand up to kiss, appeasing her in the way his governesses and tutors told him to avoid a question.

“Let’s not discuss such unpleasant things after we’ve had such a lovely time. Another day we’ll talk about it, I’m sure, but today let’s relish in the good food we ate and the good friends we spent time with.”

For a moment Nova seemed appeased, but there was a spark in her eyes, and her lips pursed in irritation.

“You always were a good student. I didn’t forget everything Madam Beaufort taught us in those etiquette classes. You did execute that phrase perfectly. I bet that old bat would’ve even cracked a smile for her favorite pupil.” Nova continued walking after that, aware of his deflection but letting him change the topic nonetheless.

They soon reached the office for Witch Weekly. Draco bowed to her and opened the door. “I’ll see you this weekend, then? I’ll pick you up at your grandmother’s around 2?” Draco asked her, though he’d reconfirm this all in about a dozen different letters between himself, his mother, and Nova.

“Of course Draco. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She smiled and waved him off.

He was then cornered by Harry Potter himself.

“Sweet Salazar’s Basilisk, Potter. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Draco very nearly ruined his shield against the rain. If that had happened Draco would have assaulted Potter the muggle way for getting him wet again.

“Come over to my place. I’ve got something to show you.” Harry’s voice was serious, even if there was a smile on his face. The public was used to seeing Draco and Harry in the same vicinity nowadays, but auror news was something any news outlet would eat their wand to get. Witch Weekly included.

“I’m assuming this has to deal with that thing I don’t know about until September?” Draco shrugged and reached out for Harry’s arm as the two apparated into Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Actually maybe but this is too important to wait.” Harry started before Draco hopped out of Harry’s Floo with a long stride.

“You know Potter, you have to tell me what enchantment you’ve got on you to get away with breaking the rules so much. It’s July and this will be the second time you’ve asked for my advice on a case while I’m suspended. I know I’m much smarter than the rest of those idiots but you really are pushing even your amount of luck.” Draco chastised Harry with quite a bit of teasing in his tone as he stepped into his great aunt’s house. 

Passing by the tapestry in the front room Draco traced a finger over the burnt ashes of his aunt, the death date of his other aunt, and the small portrait of his mother. He was the last portrait made by a Black member. It was up in the air as to whether Draco or Harry would take on the mantle of Lord Black but neither of them had really cared about it before. 

Harry was about to scold Draco for insulting his coworkers, again, but closed his mouth at the sight of the blond standing in front of the tapestry. Deciding to dust off his robes Harry walked into his kitchen and started the kettle. Hearing Harry change rooms, Draco followed him in and raised an eyebrow at Harry’s choice to do it the muggle way. However, he’d stopped having arguments about the magical versus muggle methods with Potter after they started a scoreboard competition. 

“So how little am I allowed to know about what you’re going to tell me anyway?” Draco asked while leaning against an archway.

“Actually, this may be something you can know about in a roundabout way. The Malfoy’s own a curse-breaking firm, yes?” Harry questioned while pulling a box roughly half the size of a shoebox from his robe pockets.

“Technically yes, Potter. Where is this going? Is this about my uncles?” Draco asked before Harry offered him a seat with a silent gesture, before returning to the kettle and grabbing some tea bags from the cupboard. 

“No, well not yet, but it could be. In that box is a cursed perfume. Unless the right phrase is used before/when it is sprayed will leak a poison known as the Indictum shimmer.” Harry informed Draco, before setting a mug beside him and sitting across from him.

“I’m actually decently familiar with the poison. So where did we discover this deadly perfume bottle?” Draco asked before taking a small sip of the tea before deeming it tolerable.

“It was found at the scene of a crime where some party girl wound up dead. She was apparently the second daughter to the Nimbus fortune. Not pureblood, but the family probably has as much money as you do.” Harry smirked at Draco’s raised eyebrow, then leaned back in his chair.

“Please, I own ten percent of Nimbus. My great-grandfather was an initial investor. Malfoys and Quidditch are like quills and ink.” Draco waved his hand in a circular motion for Harry to continue.

“Anyway, we heard about a similar case from the French and went to see the autopsy of some socialite Parisian. Same exact trace formula. Same supposed time of death. Same situation. Famous daughter, at a party, so there would be a large distraction and enough motive that someone within the house could be charged with the murder.” Harry pulled out the forms from his saddlebag and slid them across the table.

“Yeah, we didn’t like ole Gregor’s choice for his third wife either. The woman was a Hufflepuff, not a murderer.” Draco was dismissive in his tone but picked up the original autopsy anyway.

“Point is Draco, this is either a really good copycat like the person would have to be a potions master good, to remotely copy this. Or we’ve got an international serial killer on the loose.” Harry huffed as he pulled a hand roughly through his hair.

“How on earth do we connect this to my uncles? Even if what you’re saying is true, why is this so pressing that you have to risk both our jobs in telling me?”

“Because the daughter in the French case and the Nimbus daughter were both part of families that were staunchly neutral, or even against Voldemort in the war. You said it yourself, that silence to the LeStranges was just as bad as being a traitor.” Harry paused and Draco racked his brain to try and see the probability of the two cases being related.

“You’re not telling me something. There has to be another piece for you to search for me in broad daylight.” 

“Hannah Abbott told me that the Morgana Tea Society got a letter telling them to purge the weak and tainted from their old and noble society. An entire club basically just got a death threat. I know you get invitations to all of the social clubs, dozens more than Hannah does. I need you to be on the inside for this. Find the credibility of the threat, and be prepared to watch out for a potential serial killer. Keep a careful eye on your friends. Pansy and the Greengrass sisters aren’t safe if my hunch is right.” 

A hunch. Draco Malfoy hated a Potter Hunch. Draco was a logical and rational person. He solved his cases with facts and tried and true methods. A hunch was nothing to be treated seriously. That was unless the hunch came from Harry Potter. The number of breaks they’d made in cases because Potter had a Hunch were far too many in Draco’s opinion. 

Nodding and grabbing his wand to copy the files, Draco sighed out. “I’m going to need you to smuggle out a few things if you want me to do this right.”

“Name it and it’s yours.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks missELY. You keep me sane and our updates on schedule.


	13. Roses are Red.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Theo kisses Hermione

When Hermione opened the box containing her dress early Sunday morning, she did not expect a howler with Pansy’s voice to appear as well.

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME A MONTH AGO THAT YOU WERE GOING TO THE GREENGRASS TEA PARTY?! I COULD’VE MADE YOU SOMETHING SPECTACULAR, SOMETHING AWE-INSPIRING, SOMETHING THAT WOULD’VE MADE YOU WEEP! BUT NO, YOU HAD THEO FLOO CALL ME FRIDAY NIGHT TO ALTER SOMETHING OFF—THE—RACK!!! Honestly, that hurts me more than the lack of notice.”

The howler sighed, and Hermione was shocked as it transfigured from red to white.

“I hope to see you there, and Floo call me if you have any issues with the dress. See ya, Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the dramatics of Pansy, even in letter form, and pulled out the dress. The first thing she noticed about the garment was the color. To call the dress red would have been an insult to the dress. It was such a loud, bright, shade of the color red Hermione didn’t believe it was real at first. The dress itself was a blazer attached to a tulle skirt, but the skirt was layered in such a way that felt less ballerina and more vintage. Hermione would have been terrified to wear such a plunging neckline, however it the closed blazer structure of the top of the dress made her a bit braver. Especially since there wasn’t a bra in the world she could wear with the dress.

The dress came with a sort of plate-esque hat that had a holster for her wand to rest in. It attached like a fascinator to the top of the hat and Hermione actually liked it. Taking a deep breath Hermione set the dress down on her bed and began to get ready.

Even though a part of Hermione didn’t want to care about how she looked for the party, she knew that she didn’t want to embarrass herself. There were a lot of important people that would be in attendance. Hermione decided she would put her best foot forward, so she took her time getting ready. She dried her hair slowly and on very low heat, making sure each curl was bouncy and defined. She plucked her eyebrows till they were polished and arched elegantly. She applied her makeup with a steady hand and redid it no less than three times. She was only just finishing putting on a red lip when she heard the request for someone to enter her Floo.

She rushed downstairs, grabbing the set of gloves Pansy packed with the outfit when Theo’s voice echoed out of the Floo.

“Darling, may I come in? We have time if you aren’t ready yet, I just wanted to be the first to see you in all of your glory.” Hermione could practically hear the grin on Theo’s face as she waved her wand, adjusting the wards to allow Theo to come in.

“Ah, thank you, my dear. Now, where are we in your journey of—“ Theo stopped as he looked at her from t-strap heels to her carefully placed curls. A part of her was hopeful she did a good job without Ginny, but another part was sure she messed up somewhere and they would need to start from scratch. 

“Well?” She asked when the silence became too unbearable. “How do I look?”

Theo paused, scrutinizing her. He so strongly resembled Pansy at that moment that she struggled to remain still and not curl into herself. Removing the hand that had rested on his chin, he grinned.

“Hermione, you look like the bride my father always wanted me to have. I fear I may break young Neville’s heart; I simply must kiss you. I shan’t, because it would absolutely ruin that lovely shade on your lips, but let it be known, you are a vision.” He kissed her hand instead, and he rose she appraised his outfit... 

Theo wore a white suit with a red and black striped dress shirt underneath; he also wore a waistcoat that was more beige than white. On his head, he wore a straw hat. The color of the hat matched his waistcoat and had a red and white ribbon around the brim. He wore no bow tie but had buttoned the shirt up to his neck. He looked so innocent and poised compared to her bold look. Despite his compliments, Hermione felt the urge to run back into her bedroom and cancel the entire evening. 

She must have shown her insecurities on her face because Theo’s grin fell into a frown. He lifted her chin up to look at him.

“You are Hermione Granger. If, for some reason, that alone isn’t enough for you to walk into any party in the world like you are a guest of honor, need I remind you that you are on the arm of the Nott heir? I’m not ‘out’ in the eyes of pureblood society, so the looks you will receive are ones of jealousy.  _ I  _ will receive looks of jealousy. Both sets of looks are well deserved and you should feed them into your ego. You are intelligent, powerful, and desired.” He kissed her cheek and smiled when she gave just the hint of a grin at his speech.

“Come, I need to surround you with those in your corner. That way by the time the vultures descend, you are already the talk of the town.” He smiled and whisked them off with a flash of green powder and a shout of “Chateau de Greengrass, Scotland.”

*************************

They were quickly led to the back gardens by a house-elf that referred to himself as Clover. The Greengrass manor was a bit more rustic in decor than Theo’s estate or Malfoy Manor. The archways let light in and the designs on the stained glass windows were an abstract landscape. She wanted to stop and admire how gorgeous they were, but the little elf was walking with quite a bit of speed considering his size, and Hermione barely had time to stop and admire the decor.

They were hustled into the gardens quickly, and just as smoothly as the elf appeared, he disappeared. 

To call where they were a garden would be to call the palace of Versailles a house. There was endless shrubbery as far as Hermione could see, and such a large variety of flowers, Hermione had lost count of the different species. Gorgeous stone pathways were interspersed with intricate and picturesque birdbaths and fountains. Theo apparently knew the way, but Hermione felt as if she had just entered a grand maze. They popped out into a clearing on a bit of a hill that housed an impressive apple tree. 

There were about a dozen or so round tables with impossibly white linens scattered around the clearing. There was also the sound of a string quartet, or maybe even a few more players, but she had no clue as to where the sound was coming from. Plates of hors d’oeuvres floated around the field, and everyone, absolutely everyone, was dressed in the boldest of colors; there was the whitest of whites, the reddest of reds. Compared to the elegant and poised way everyone walked, sat, and stood, it was if the moment was an illustration in a book. 

Theo took her arm as they approached some people, and Blaise was actually the first person the two-spotted.

“Aww!! No fair, man. No one told me we were bringing interesting people. Draco brought Nova and immediately got an invite into the Circe Circle. The Malfoys have their own charity foundation, and I’m the one looking to up the Zabini philanthropic notions. That organization is practically a wand-waving contest on who can give the largest donation to the charity of the season! You bringing the Golden Girl means that any social club with a Gryffindor president is yours for the taking. I can almost hear their chatter now.  _ ‘Looks like that Nott boy has really shaped up his family.’‘Yes, quite right, he’s done well for himself, despite everything.’”  _ Blaise chuckled as he went through his impressions of people Hermione assumed Theo knew.

Blaise looked put together. He was dressed in a blue waistcoat and trousers with a paisley shirt underneath. His beautiful curls were showcased, but he had cut the sides short. Looking around, she saw Pansy in a similar color talking to a lady dressed head to toe in Emerald green. Though, Hermione noticed Pansy’s outfit featured more of the lighter accent colors of Blaise’s shirt. Pansy caught Hermione’s eye, and Hermione held out a small wave of greeting before joining them.

“Well, I’ve completed a miracle. I’d take off my hat to my own genius, but this is couture.” She giggled, adjusting the brim of her gossamer hat that was swirled in colors of white and oak. 

“Yes, you really do make wonderful clothes Pansy. I’d hate to know what you charged Theo for it.” Hermione curtsied slightly in thanks and hoped she did so properly enough for the group.

“Oh, I charged him double. You’re one of my models and I was forced to bring you a showroom piece. I’m thoroughly insulted by his behavior, and I could go on for ages in how long I will be angry. It should be about as long as I’m angry at Draco for taking Nova and not telling me.” Pansy huffed and crossed her arms, only to smile and give away that her little show of dramatics was just that, dramatics.

“Come on Pans, let’s find you a glass of champagne to down. You’re always at least 20% less bitchy with some booze in you.” Blaise winked as he shuffled Pansy up the clearing some and towards a floating plate. 

Hermione smiled and felt a glimmer of hope after that encounter and hopped that this afternoon wouldn’t actually be that bad. That feeling fell to the pit of her stomach when she heard a shrill voice call out.

“Is that Hermione Granger? Oh, it’s simply a crime we haven’t met yet.” An older woman with stark white hair and eyes the exact shade of blue as Ron’s walked up to them. Her hat looked as if it was growing its own garden.

“A pleasure, all the same, I’m sure. If you don’t mind me asking, are you related to Molly Weasley?” Hermione questioned more timidly than she meant to. If she was wrong, then she could possibly have insulted the most-likely pureblood woman in front of her. Not that there was anything wrong with being a Weasley.

“Oh, I see our looks are still the most defining trait we have. Yes, I am a Prewett. Please call me Tessie. I’ve been gone quite a while in France. I just came back in to check on little Victoire. Plus, there were some things I wanted to pick up at Shell Cottage. When I got the invitation for the Greengrass function, I simply couldn’t refuse.” Tessie laughed as if both Theo and she had understood the inside joke that she was telling. 

Theo managed to laugh along with Tessie, and it appeared natural. Hermione was not nearly as good with her forced laughter and felt strained and was sure she looked uncomfortable. 

“Shell Cottage, oh yes I’ve been meaning to visit Bill and Fleur. I really don’t go often enough.” Hermione responded to Tessie as soon as the laughter had died down a bit.

“Oh, you should, Victoire is positively precious. The most beautiful strawberry blonde hair and both of her parents are quite the lookers. The Delacour’s are quite a reputable family in France. Oh, but you’ve had plenty of interactions with them, haven’t you, Mister Nott?” Tessie asked with a teasing smile. The way that Theo grimaced at the comment made it clear that the remark was more of a jab than an honest question. 

Hermione didn’t have a chance to ask a clarifying question of her own as the sound of a bell was heard over the crowd.

“Come on love, that’s the sign that tea is ready to be served. We best find our tables and be judged accordingly. It was a pleasure seeing you again Madam Prewett.” Theo gave Tessie a bow, before turning to Hermione with a wink. He then escorted her to a table close to the apple tree.

The round table sat eight, and in the blink of an eye, the empty table was filled with pastries, cakes, sandwiches, and at least four different pots of tea.

Hermione turned to see Daphne already sitting at the table, talking to a blonde girl that Hermione vaguely remembered as being her younger sister, Astoria. Pansy and Blaise had followed them to the table. Hermione was relieved to see familiar faces sitting across from her. An unsettling feeling rolled through her stomach at the realization that she was starting to feel at home with a table filled with pureblood Slytherins.

“So what was that all about with Fleur’s family?” Hermione whispered to Theo after he pulled out her chair for her and they both sat down. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was set up by my father in 4th year to meet my so-called ‘relatives’ in France, and they set up meetings with her family. Her sister was far too young for me, but according to my dad that never stopped a Nott before. Honestly, with the gap between my mother and him, I do believe he was telling the truth.” Theo rolled his eyes before grasping her hand and kissing it sweetly. 

“You look lovely Hermione. Draco literally can’t stop staring at you.” Theo whispered to her a moment later. Hermione nearly dropped the teacup she had just filled with a lovely smelling oolong tea.

“I’m sorry wha—“ Hermione started as she looked up and saw Draco. She had to consciously close her mouth as she absorbed just how divine Draco looked. He was in papyrus colored trousers and a simple white button-down, but his waistcoat was intricately detailed. Its base color was grey and it was trimmed in a matching color to his slacks. The waistcoat was double-layered, and when he turned around to answer someone’s question she saw that his waistcoat was a corset. The strings tied tautly around his waist and the way it defined the contrast between his broad shoulders and his nipped waist was delicious. He was wearing a white straw hat and there was a glass of whiskey in his hand as he laughed at something a woman in a green frock was saying. 

There could have been an entire series of novels written about how perfectly Draco looked angelic and carried himself like the devil incarnate. He was positively literary. He was Hemmingway and Wilde. He was Twain and Austin. 

Draco turned back towards them and they locked eyes. Hermione to blush nearly the same color as her dress.

“I guess the feeling is mutual then, Miss Granger.” Theo chuckled as he placed a few stray curls behind her ear.

“Though I must admit, I do agree with you. When Draco decides to put in some effort, he can look positively sinful, and I’m not even Christian.” Theo winked at her before picking up his own teacup and sipping it.

“I—I have no idea what you mean Theo—“ Hermione stammered. Theo lowered his eyebrows at her in irritation.

“I am not stupid Hermione, nor do I make a habit of being a tease. Now, shall we try your response again? I may even be so inclined to help you get our mutual friend out of his rather tasteful ensemble.” Theo spoke just over his teacup and finished his statement with a sip. 

Hermione bit her lip in thought. “We’re just friends Theo. Just because he looks nice doesn’t mean I want to… you know.” She said before quickly returning to her tea as if it was telling her the most fascinating story she had ever read.

“Now, I don’t know your specific kinks and limits, but I will have to learn those in the months to come Miss Granger. How can I give you my best advice if I don’t even know what you’re into?” Theo gave a short laugh before smiling and raising his hand slightly to call the attention to Draco and Nova.

Hermione smiled at Draco and attempted to hold back the blush as he air-kissed both of her cheeks. He was close enough that she could smell his cologne. It had to be custom because she had never smelt anything like it. It was leather, and something fresh like grass or paper, and then something citrusy like lemons or  _ apples _ ! It was nearly intoxicating, and she damn near pulled him back to get another whiff. Grabbing a scone to nibble on Hermione tried to calm herself back into the world of rationality. Her mind was still hazy with the memory of his cologne, but her blush did subside when he gave the same air kisses to Daphne, Astoria, and Pansy. Blaise even attempted to get Draco to give him a kiss as well.

“You all look lovely. Pans, did you dress Hermione for today? I’m pretty sure I recognize this look.” Draco asked as he was pushing Nova’s chair in. Hermione had stopped questioning Blaise, Theo and Draco’s commitment to chivalry, and had just accepted it as a nice thing that happened when you were around purebloods. Draco was sat next to her and she continued to smell that lovely scent.

“Yes I did, though I would’ve liked a little notice, and I will demand at least two weeks' notice for everything Granger wears to function. For every event of the summer season, Granger is invited to, her body is mine.” Pansy demanded as she pointed an accusing finger at Draco and Theo.

“Well then start fitting her for resort wear, because she’s going to get an invite at my birthday weekend in Italy. I’ll owl you the details, Granger, but it’s not till August.” Blaise grinned widely at her, and Hermione was shocked at the casual way she was just becoming part of the fold.

“Oh Pansy, I want a bikini line in time for Theo’s Dionysus Festival in Greece,” Daphne asked with her hands up in cute little fists. 

“Anything for you Daph. You are the only sane one of the bunch.” Pansy responded as she blew her friend a kiss.

“Pansy is excluding herself in that list of sane people, Granger.” Draco chuckled and raised a glass to Pansy to show that it was all in good fun.

“Honestly Granger, I don’t know if you can even fathom how much a time commitment being our friend is. You might need an assistant just for logistics.” Blaise gave a snort of a laugh and snapped his fingers. A similar glass of whiskey whisked through the air and into his hand.

“Oh, I’m sure I’m fine with keeping a planner. You don’t get called the swottiest witch of her age without being able to back it up.” Hermione laughed before attempting to take a sip of tea. when she saw six faces with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“Did Granger just—?” Pansy started.

“I can’t believe it.” Blaise continued.

“Called herself Draco’s nickname,” Theo added.

“I’ll never need another birthday present again.” Draco finished, and the group of Slytherins proceeded to burst out laughing.

“Wait my nickname?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, just about everyone in our year got a nickname from Draco. Some were better than others. You were Swot of her age after the brightest witch of her age comments from professors got too repetitive. We shortened it to Soha after fifth year, but this was like catching the golden snitch, impressing Snape, and escaping Filch after curfew all in the same day.” Theo explained with a gleam in his eyes.

“Well, I guess you’re welcome.” Hermione shrugged as she sipped her tea and watched the group gather themselves.

“Draco isn’t that—” Nova started before Draco grasped her arm and his once bright smile turned into a tight-lipped frown.

“Yes, it’s Avela LeStrange. Fuck.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks missELY as always. Chapter a little early today so happy reading!


	14. The Impossible Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where people keep grabbing Hermione's hand.

Avela Lestrange. 

The name Lestrange was a legendary name when one talked about the war. Perhaps only defeated by the Malfoys in infamy, the Lestranges were monsters worthy of their own boogeyman fairytale. Bellatrix was the chief terror among the Lestranges but to Hermione, Bellatrix was always more of a Black than a Lestrange. She was the evil to Andromeda’s good, and to Narcissa’s confusing grey. That wasn’t necessarily to downplay the nature of the Lestranges, as the Lestrange brothers were a type of horror that deserved a shudder upon just hearing the name.

Avela was a pointy sort of woman, with long angular features, and shiny black hair that was pulled back tautly into a tight chignon. She looked regal but more sinister than the other purebloods in attendance. It was as if Avela refused to play the part of the good, beautiful, rich person like the folks around her. 

Draco stood up stiffly only for Hermione to instinctively grab his arm. She didn’t know what to say. Hermione wasn’t familiar with Avela’s past, other than that she was the wife of Rastaban Lestrange, yet Hermione knew she wanted Draco nowhere near Avela.

Draco placed his hand on top of hers and looked down with a soft smile. “I’ll be alright, I promise Granger. I’m not always in need of a savior like Saint Potter and the Weasel.” He winked and shrugged off her grip to speak with Avela in the secluded part of the shrubbery where she was lingering.

“Granger darling, Hermione, relax. You shouldn’t cause a scene and having both of you here together nearly does that on its own.” Theo whispered to her after Draco left, turning to appraise the crowd around them while he spoke. They hadn’t caused a scene so maybe Theo was looking for a particular person?

“Alright then, ease my worries. Tell me Avela was an innocent bystander to the atrocities her husband and brother-in-law created. Tell me that she was trapped in her situation and I have nothing to fear by her being here at this party and talking to Draco.” Hermione hissed while gripping her teacup with enough force to chip the handle.

“I can’t.” Theo gripped her free hand with his right and turned towards her as his green eyes hardened like emeralds. “Avela Lestrange isn’t stupid. She wasn’t branded nor was she at many meetings from what my dad and Draco have said, but she wasn’t a prisoner. She said she shipped her sons to Durmstrang to be safe, but it also could have been because of the allies Death Eaters had there.”

Hermione moved to stand but Theo’s tight grip on her wrist made her stop mid-rise.

“You know who else isn’t stupid nor should be underestimated…? Draco. If he needs us, he will call. Draco and I have enough secret signals he can use if something goes wrong.” Patting her wrist lightly Theo let her go and glared at her once to remain in her seat.

Hermione pursed her lips but nodded in agreement. “I’ll give him ten minutes—max.”

**************

“I’m surprised to see you here. You know your family is under a lot of scrutiny with the disappearances of Rastaban and Rodolphus. Especially because they resurfaced under suspicion of a murder trial.” Draco raised an eyebrow and pulled out a pack of Dragon’s Breath cigarettes. It was a dirty little secret of his he picked up from Greyback, and dammit, he knew at least seven people in his life that would kill him if they caught him smoking. 

“I came because I know you would be here. Your mother still wants you to marry the little Greengrass girl, yes? Well, I guess the Avery merger is still on the table now too.” Avela glared at Draco while he lit the cigarette but said nothing regardless. 

“I must say I commend you Draco, for seeing the tide change even before Lucius did. I guess that old saying is true. If there isn’t a Malfoy in the inner circle of power, it’s because the circle is changing.” Avela gave a huff of a laugh as Draco took his first drag.

“Malfoys never stay down for long. What do you need Lestrange? My mother not answering your owls or something?” He spoke calmly and measured. The act of smoking hid whatever nervous fidgeting he wanted to do at the moment.

“No, she isn’t, but when I say I’m here for you Draco, I mean I’m here for you. Tell your little mudblood and blood traitor friends to stay out of my home. I haven’t heard from Rastaban in months and I won’t have the incompetent ministry upsetting my boys. They’re home for the summer.” Avela crossed her arms over her chest and Draco felt a sick sense of deja vu at how similar she sounded to Umbridge at the moment. 

It was a testament to his composure that Draco didn’t react to any of her statements. Though it was useful that she told him that she had received at least some communication from Rastaban since the war. 

“Haven’t you heard Avela?” Draco grinned before inhaling again and blowing the smoke out through his nose. “I’ve been suspended from the so-called ‘incompetent ministry.’ I can’t help it if the Aurors decide to do their jobs and contact the families of missing persons when they have a lead.” 

Avela grit her teeth and Draco raised his eyebrow at the sight of her clenching her jaw. “Don’t patronize me, boy. Everyone at this party knows you have Harry Potter in your corner. You’re even parading his little mudblood girl around as your side conquest while escorting the Avery heir. You peacocking around with your friends in high places won’t save you or them when your choice of sides gets past disrespectful and into—” she paused, her lip lifting into a sneer, “—an _inconvenience_. The Dark Lord didn’t need the Malfoys at his side.”

She was taunting him, he knew that. Yet, Draco still felt the urge to lash out. The white snake tattoo on his forearm woke up from the increase in magic Draco was containing and slithered its way up to the base of Draco’s neck. The action gave him a shiver as well as an idea.

Draco channeled his aunt Bella when torturing, his father when scheming, and Voldemort himself at any moment and adjusted his posture when he spoke so Avela could see his full height. 

“The Dark Lord chose me.” Draco mused out in a drawl, similar to that of his late godfather Severus. “I became the master of the Elder Wand. I opened up the portal to Hogwarts and the Dark Lord held court in _my_ home. He barely knew your sons’ names and he was never present at House Lestrange. Do _not_ ask for my assistance and then insult my reputation in the same breath Avela. The Dark Lord is dead and I sided with the man who killed him. The man who I keep very close to me. I’ve got the smartest witch in a generation at my dinner table, and as such, I have every right to send my little Auror associates to question you for your statements about her. However, for old times sake, I’ll give you the courtesy of allowing you to ask me for help again, properly this time.” 

Avela was cunning, but she was proud. Her lips closed and opened a few times before she seemed to decide on an answer. “Don’t regret what you have decided to do Draco.”

“And just what is that Avela? I haven’t done anything.” Draco laughed haughtily and moved to grasp and kiss her hand, a soft wandless spell whispered on his lips just before he kissed it.

Jerking her hand away Avela set it at her side in a fist. “You heard me Draco. Call off your mutts or you’ll regret it.”

“I’ll see what I can do Avela.” Draco smiled and vanished his cigarette with a wave of his wand. He bowed deeply before her until he could hear her footsteps walking away from him. 

*********

Draco returned with his head held high and smelling faintly of smoke. He looked around lazily, but Hermione had spent enough time around Harry to know he was checking his exits. 

The others at the table paused only slightly before starting up conversations again as if Draco had merely left for the restroom, and the mood seemed to adjust to something like the fun and light nature it was previously. Draco and Theo chatted with others at the table without hesitation, but the way the two kept glancing at one another had Hermione convinced that they were having a second, simultaneous, and silent conversation. Hermione racked her brain with a spell for telepathy till she remembered that Draco was a Legilimens. It was entirely possible that Theo was one as well, and the two were able to communicate telepathically with mutually open minds. 

Draco relaxed after a few minutes, though Hermione wasn’t convinced that his conversation with Avela Lestrange was so easy to brush off.

Hermione talked to Pansy about the models she was working with while Draco and Theo glared at one another with varying amounts of intensity. Hermione was thoroughly impressed with the caliber of spokespeople Pansy had acquired, but she was most interested in meeting Fawn Fenrir and Candelnut two weeks from Saturday at the group shot. The fashion line was truly turning into a statement about feminism, subverting expectations, and modern ideals in being a witch. Hermione was further surprised when Pansy told her that Draco’s investment was the reason they could even afford such powerful women. 

Hermione got to know the Greengrass sisters a little better. Daphne had been getting her mastery in charms and wanted to work on enchanted jewelry. Astoria was a bit of an artist and was currently in her apprenticeship with a well known French painter. Both of these careers seemed nice and rather difficult to be successful at. However, Hermione couldn’t help but notice that neither of their chosen fields needed to be completed outside of the home and would easily be transitioned into a nice hobby. Even Pansy’s choice of fashion could have been reined into nothing more than a nice skill if she dropped the storefront and campaign she was running. 

Maybe that was why Pansy needed to launch her fashion brand so impressively. She needed to make a huge statement for people in her world to treat her seriously. It warmed Hermione’s heart all the more that Draco was the one to help her achieve that goal. Eventually, the conversations had died down, and Theo stood to help her up and escort her back through the complicated hedge maze. 

“Hermione,” Theo whispered once they were alone in the Floo room, and Hermione felt a sense of dread run over her like a shudder. Theo never used her first name, what brought this on?

“You’re not going home tonight. I will be bringing you to Draco’s house in London and we will contact Mr. Potter there. Draco is taking Nova home, but he will be with us shortly.”

“What?!” Hermione hissed yanking her arm from Theo, only to have him grab it back with a surprising amount of strength. 

“Hermione, my dear, I know you can take care of yourself, but Draco has informed me that the lady Lestrange essentially threatened your life. Draco’s London home is incredibly safe, and once Mr. Potter arrives, I’m sure Draco will fill you in on everything you’ve missed.” He smiled at her and spoke softly as if he was flirting with her. 

Hermione didn’t want to blindly follow Theo, even if he was being much more forthcoming than the Slytherins she had interacted with usually were. “Are you saying you don’t trust the wards that Harry and I set up at Grimmauld Place? What makes you think that Draco’s are so much better than mine?” Hermione huffed and jerked from his arm again. 

“Because, you sweet, adorable little child. Draco took warding sigil stones from the 15th century and buried them in his back garden.” Theo grit his teeth and just for a moment Hermione saw a glimpse of Nott Sr. and all the horror that man could produce. “Mr. Potter doesn’t know how to reactivate, or lockdown, the Black family seals; even if he did, I doubt he’d be able to with his bloodline. Malfoy wards are powerful dark magic that are tough to comprehend, let alone break. There was a reason the Dark Lord chose Malfoy Manor as his headquarters. That, and Draco knows every little Auror spell Mr. Potter does. Are you quite finished being a little swot who doesn’t know what she’s talking about so I can protect you, or does Draco get to bite my head off for keeping you out in the open longer than the ten minutes it’ll take him to send Nova home and Floo to his place?” Theo gripped her wrist again but didn’t attempt to move without her approval. 

Hermione’s eyes were wide as saucers as she saw such a darkness erupt from Theo. Was Theo really the haughty, smug best friend of Draco’s that she vaguely remembered from school, or was Theo the sweet effervescent man she had come to adore? Hermione clenched her jaw but agreed to follow him to Draco’s home in London. She would Patronus Harry straight away. And besides, she had got herself out of worse situations. 

********

Flooing into a study filled with books all rebound into a classy brown leather, walls covered in soothing forest green, and plush grey chairs across from a gorgeous mahogany desk, Hermione saw Draco in just his dress shirt and slacks. He was gripping a glass of firewhiskey in his right hand and furiously jotting down notes in the other. 

He didn’t look up from his desk as he spoke, “You’re late Nott. I opened my wards up to Granger while I wasn’t even bloody home, just for you to waste time. I owled Potter, but keep yourself safe. Neville is free to lock in with us tonight, and you should call him regardless to tell him that you won’t be home.” Draco then shooed Theo off like he was Draco’s employee rather than his best friend. 

Gripping her wrist and cursing under her breath how easily she bruised Hermione saw Draco’s stern expression fade to one of shame. He lifted his wand, and with a brisk flick of his wrist and a short bark of Expelliarmus, Draco had stolen her wand. 

This was it, this was her worst nightmare come true. Ron was right all along, Draco hadn’t changed. She was lying with the serpents, and now it was time for her to get bit. Hermione was channeling her energy to try and produce whatever wandless magic she could come up with when Draco dropped to his knees in front of her. 

“I’m sorry.” He said to her horsely to her with his head down. Hermione was thrown for another loop. She felt whiplash from the sheer speed these Slytherins could change their faces. 

“For what?” She asked, leaning down to see his face. 

“I need you to wait until I have a chance to inform Potter of what I was told, but then I give you full permission to hex me within an inch of my life. I want to tell you what happened before Potter arrived, so I needed a little bit of guaranteed safety.” 

“Tell me what, Draco?” Hermione asked and lifted his chin. His eyes watered and jaw clenched. He looked vicious but also moments from crying. 

“I did nothing, like usual. I wanted the information Avela had, and I knew she would give it to me. But the way she talked about you. She called you a—well I shouldn’t have allowed it. Not after what my aunt did to you. I needed her to think I could be of use to her. I know it wasn’t excusable, and I swear to Merlin himself I haven’t said the word since the day Dumbledore died, but I should’ve defended you, and I’m sorry. I was being a coward, just like I always am. I was too much of a fucking coward to kill Dumbledore and spare my mother the torture. I was too much of a coward to stay with the people that had just saved my life at the battle. I was too much of a coward to not fight harder for my rightful place in the Auror ranks. And most of all Hermione, I was too much of a coward to even attempt to apologize for all the things I’ve done to you. You asked me if we had bad blood all those weeks ago, and because of my cowardice we have something so much worse.” Draco blew an angry breath through his nostrils before he continued. 

“It was so much easier to just pretend like everything between us never happened. I could live with stained hands that wouldn’t wash clean as long as you kept your distance. But that’s not good enough anymore. I can’t protect you if you can’t trust me. I understand you not wanting to trust me, seeing as I’m the one who put your life in danger.” He raised a hand back to his desk before grabbing and handing her back her wand. As he did so he pushed up her sleeve to see her scar with his other hand. 

Hermione cursed under her breath at the fact that her scar was visible at all. She had been wearing long sleeves today, so she hadn’t bothered to glamor it. Hermione didn’t like looking at it herself, but to see Draco staring at it on his knees was uncomfortably raw, like how her skin felt after getting a sunburn. 

“Draco, I—” Hermione started, but Draco was quick to continue. 

“Don’t. I’m not done apologizing to you properly. Not by a long shot, but I need to apologize for this thing first. I don’t trust Avela to not try something, at the very least she has enough connections to have you followed. I trust myself to keep you safe this time, as an apology. A start to all the times I should’ve apologized.”

Hermione felt like crying. She had never once seen Draco so emotional. She felt his sorrow, his worry, and most of all his anger. He seemed so angry for her that it opened up a wellspring in her and she burst into tears. Draco quickly stood and pulled her in, whispering apologies against her ear as she sobbed for things she hadn’t cried about for years. Some she never had the time to cry about at all. 

Draco let her cry for a few moments while he stroked her hair. Biting his lip he held her close to his chest as he said the spell for legilimancy. 

_“I’m sorry for the way I treated you in school. I was jealous of your intelligence. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel less than the stunning woman you are. I ate my words at the Yule Ball, and never saw you as anything less than pretty since. I’m sorry for being a shite Prefect to you. I just wanted to cause you trouble. I’m sorry for Dobby. I was a shite master. I’m sorry for Dumbledore, even if I couldn’t do it, I ensured it happened. I’m sorry for what my aunt did to you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help more than I did. I’m sorry for all the mistakes I’ve made. I’m sorry that I’ll still be making them tomorrow. I’m sorry I let Avela call you that horse shite of a name. Voldemort was talking out his arse when the half-blood said blood purity actually mattered. I’m sorry I made Theo kidnap you. Actually, I’m not, but I am sorry if Theo had to show his Nott Sr. side. I’m sorry I’m not braver, but I’m cunning and I’ll fix every mistake I can. I’m sorry I brought you into my world and back into danger, but I’m not letting you out of it. You fit—“_ He paused in his statement and Hermione took a few shaky breaths as she pulled away from him and assessed how she was feeling. 

The weight off her was immense. It had been impossible to think that Draco Malfoy would sincerely apologize to her. It made her want to be that so-called competition Nova thought she was. It made her want to give up any remaining hesitations she had in letting herself fall for him. It made her realize that maybe she already had. 

“Listen, we’ll continue how much of a git I am later. Potter should be arriving any minute. Go freshen up in my bathroom, it’s bigger. End of the hall on your left. Feel free to change clothes. Just call out for Mippy it’s her day to be here and not the manor.” Draco smiled at her and wiped stray tears from her cheeks. 

She stood up shakily, and Draco escorted her out of the door. She turned away from him as he walked towards the kitchen and she stepped foot into his bedroom. 

It was large and open. Huge windows overlooking the Thames made her think of him spending years living under the Black Lake.

The decor was soft oaks, greys, and deep, deep greens. A soft sage bedspread was placed on a king-sized bed. The nearby nightstand had a small collection of books, and in the corner of the room was a similar desk to the one in his study. However, while the other one was immaculate and perfectly organized. This one was covered in stray pieces of parchment, notebooks, and even a muggle CD player. 

Unable to help herself, she walked over to the device to see what CD was in it. She couldn’t help the laugh that burst through her lips at a Queen album in a CD player owned by Draco Malfoy, of all people. 

Hermione’s laugh was cut short as a popping sound startled her to the point of jumping. 

“The young miss requested a change of clothes?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to missELY for this doozy of a chapter.


	15. Mirror Mirror on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they make fun of Harry.

_ “ _ The young Miss requested a change of clothes?” 

Hermione jolted and quickly turned around to face the little house elf. Mippy was a paler color than Dobby or Kreature, and she had a beautiful sky blue ribbon wrapped around her head. Her hands looked soft and were carefully manicured. They delicately held the garment like it would disintegrate if one were to grip it too hard. The elf wore a pristine tea towel that cinched at the waist with a matching ribbon. She was holding a deep red dress and staring at Hermione expectantly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes and cringing at the sight of eyeliner on her palms after.  _ So much for looking pretty today.  _

_ “ _ The young Miss needs casual clothing. Mippy has given the young Miss a proper selection. Is it not to your liking?” Mippy snapped her fingers and levitated the garment so it floated in the air like a specter. 

The dress was short-sleeved and buttoned all the way down the front. It was a deep wine color and would hit around Hermione’s shins. The dress was beautiful, and when Hermione went out to touch it she felt the comfort of soft cotton. 

“Who’s dress is this?” Hermione asked, turning to face the little elf. 

“It is no ones Miss. The Madam Milkin sends the Lady Malfoy the entire spring collection. But the Lady Malfoy would never wear such a color. It does not go with her coloring.” Hermione’s jaw dropped at the idea of Narcissa both receiving a designer’s entire spring collection, and then having at least one, if not many of the pieces, do nothing but collect dust. How much clothing was just sitting in Narcissa’s closet, never to see the light of day? Was Draco the same? Hermione took the dress from Mippy with a smile and soft “Thank you” before stepping into what she thought was his bathroom. 

It was not. It was much much worse. 

What Hermione stepped into was a shrine to Draco’s vanity. Draco’s closet was bigger than Hermione’s entire bedroom in Grimmauld Place. There were dozens and dozens of robes, suits, and oxfords hung around the room. He had dragon leather shoes in every shade of brown, black, and grey neatly lined the room. There was even an entire wall of silk ties in every color of the rainbow. A separate corner of the room was allocated to the latest Quidditch sportswear. Several of the items still had tags on it. He had framed a Falmouth Falcons jersey up next to his second year Slytherin Jersey. Hermione scoffed at the show of his ego. She turned to the back of the room and spied a full-length mirror. 

Hermione groaned at the sight of herself. Her hair was a frizzy mess and the hat had fallen down her head from Draco’s Expelliarmus. Her eyes bore a striking resemblance to that of a raccoon’s, and Pansy’s beautiful blazer was wrinkled. Huffing, Hermione took her hat off and threw it on the floor.

“Much better already, though I don’t think Master Draco has enough hair potion to tame that mop.” Hermione jumped and pointed her wand into the empty room. 

“Who was that?!”

“Me, you daft child. Now pick up that garment before you ruin all of Mippy’s hard work.” The voice was masculine but it seemingly came from the mirror. 

“Are you a talking mirror?” Hermione questioned. Setting her wand down on a nearby counter before slowly pressing her fingers to the glass. 

“Enchanted, not merely a talking mirror. Honestly, it’s like you’ve never been in a wizard’s home before. Also don’t touch the glass, you’ll smudge it.” The glass glowed a bit and Hermione was quick to remove her hand from the mirror. 

“This is fascinating. Do you have a name?” 

“In a sense, I have a level of... honesty. The young master ordered the Cogitatio edition so I suppose you may call me that.”

“Cogitatio—reflection!” Hermione grinned and moved to pick up the fallen garment. 

“Yes, that is the English translation. But it means I can tell you honestly your hair looks like you have been struck by lightning. The young Master has a few ribbons from new packages in his sock drawer. I implore you to use them.” 

The mirror glowed and highlighted the reflection of a particular drawer, but when Hermione turned the drawer was in its original brown. 

“Well, I never.” She glared, but walked over to the drawer regardless and pulled out a simple bit of brown twine. Tying it into a circle, Hermione set to putting her curls in a bun at the top of her head. 

“Much improved. Now for the dress. Your shoes simply do not go, but I suppose you could go barefoot within the house. It will add to your—casual appearance.” Hermione rolled her eyes at the mirror’s suggestion.

“Honestly, I can’t believe Draco would put up with someone like you every day.”

“Master Draco has high standards and I ensure he lives up to them. You clearly subscribe to a lesser caliber of honesty.” The enchantment glowed and glamoured the image of Hermione to appear put together, effortlessly done up, and severely lacking in frizz. 

“No, stop that. Just because I don’t want my mirror to insult me every waking moment does not I want to see some skewed version of myself.”

“Very well.” The mirror dimmed and returned Hermione’s image into her normal, raccoon associated self. “Do hurry though, Master Draco isn’t a very patient man and you’ve certainly kept him waiting a while.” 

Hermione huffed through her nose but did set the dress down on a nearby ottoman while she began to strip Pansy’s dress off. Pausing when she noticed she was in full view of the mirror, Hermione shuffled over to the corner of the room and changed.

“A modest witch in Master Draco’s chambers. Well I never thought I’d see the day.” The mirror chuckled as Hermione stepped back into the view of it to gauge the fit of the dress. It was a little snug around the hips, but not to the point of it being uncomfortable. 

“I take it that a lot of women are subject to your… appraisal?” Hermione scoffed at the mirror, crossing her arms. Only to uncross them, as it looked like she was simply arguing with herself.

“Not too many, no. But the Lady Parkinson visits enough, and that woman doesn’t know the meaning of subtlety around Master Draco.” Hermione paused in her action of putting the dress on a spare hanger at that statement. Draco and Pansy did date through most of Hogwarts. It wouldn’t be a stretch to hear that the two occasionally got back together. 

Shaking her head of such thoughts, Hermione considered her outfit complete and went looking around for a cloth to clean herself up. Finding none, she exited the closet and opened the door next to it, relieved to find a bathroom in a deep aquamarine pattern. The entire room was painted to look like it was underwater and catching the sun that filtered down from the surface. Walking towards the sink, this time with a silent mirror, Hermione washed her face and scrubbed until she was flushed, but sans makeup streaks.

“I was wondering if you got lost.” Draco smiled at her as she exited the bathroom. He was perched on the side of his desk and twirling a pendant necklace around his fingers.

“I was being accosted by your mirror. I can’t imagine how you live with him.” Hermione answered him and walked towards him. 

“I expect to be the best-dressed person in the room. Living with a critic like that ensures it. Plus, when you do occasionally make the mirror speechless it’s a great confidence booster.” He winked at her and stood up carefully.

“Potter is downstairs now and we’re working on a plan to close this case before it gets ugly. However, I wanted to give you this as a bit of personal protection.” Draco grasped her hand and placed the necklace in her palm. It was a teardrop necklace, and the pendant was a set of silver snakes around an opal. Holding the necklace close to her eye a jet black pupil popped open to stare at her. Hermione jumped back at the sight and nearly dropped the piece of jewelry.

“It likes you, good. It always hated me.” Draco took it back from her briefly and the pupil immediately narrowed into a slit, proving his point.

“What is it?” Hermione questioned, touching it carefully.

“It’s a Medusa’s Gaze. They were pretty popular in the 17th century with the Greek revival in Britain. It’s been in my family for ages, but it’s still a powerful protective item. Mark the signal for protection and it’ll petrify the person directly in front of you. It’s also tied to my family magics, so I’ll feel it being activated.” Draco explained opening the clasp of the necklace.

“I’d like it if you would wear it until we get to the bottom of all this.” He raised the necklace towards her and, after a minute, Hermione nodded and turned around for him to place it on her.

“This isn’t some strange proposal or servitude offering is it?” Hermione teased as she felt the warmth of an enchanted item touch her neck. 

“Oh, absolutely not. My mother would have never given it to you if that was the case. There is a three-week process for any proposal, and my solicitor will need to be present for any contracts of servitude.” Draco chuckled and stepped back.

“Your mother gave you this?” Hermione asked, turning towards him sharply.

“My mother wants this to end as much as I do. She lost her sister. Her husband is serving fifteen years in Azkaban. She just started talking to Aunt Andromeda again. Our family couldn’t survive another war.” Draco held his hand out for her to take and she accepted, and he walked them out of his bedroom.

Hermione was silent as they walked down the hall. She had always talked about the Second War, but the First War was just as influential to people like Draco. He was born in the middle of it. What would that have been like for him? How sheltered was his childhood?  How much work had it taken to rebuild the family’s reputation so that Draco was able to flaunt his last name by the time they arrived at Hogwarts?

Hermione was still contemplating this as she turned a corner and saw Neville and Theo talking hunched over a bottle of wine while Harry was sorting through several pieces of parchment.

At her approach, the three men lifted their heads and Harry immediately ran towards Hermione. He pulled her into a tight hug, and Hermione chuckled, patting the back of her oldest friend.

“Harry, what brought this on?”

“Draco sent me a Code Astronomy that you were at his place, locked in. You don’t exactly have the best track record with Lestrange women, so I fretted a bit.” Harry pulled back and looked her over like a worried mother.

“I told Potter you were fine. Theo told Potter you were fine. Even bloody Longbottom acted as a character witness and told Potter that if I had killed you, I wouldn’t have kept your body in my home.” Draco smirked but seemed mostly unfazed by Harry’s appraisal of her health.

“So we’re having a sleepover at Malfoys, and Harry is trying his hardest to get himself fired by not only letting Malfoy see confidential case documents but Theo and myself as well,” Neville informed her while running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, it’s not a good case if Harry hasn’t broken at least four ministry rules. Even I know that much all the way down in my department.” Hermione shuffled over to an open bar stool and sat down to look at the parchments.

“I’m considering this to be a use of experts. Neville, Theo, and Malfoy all are purebloods. This serial killer is attacking high society members, and if I’m going to catch them, I need an in.” Harry showed Hermione the crime scene folders of the Crouch and Nimbus murders.

“The poison being used has been traced to a magical strain of the Tan Hua or the Night Blooming Cereus. This strain is only native to certain regions in China, so Theo’s ability to speak Mandarin and Neville’s Herbology knowledge is actually quite useful. I’ve got a contact to get a flower, and these two have attempted to decipher some Chinese manuscripts of Chinese Aurors dealing with the poison. Apparently they deal with it a lot more but haven’t in several decades.” Harry slid over the picture of the plant and Hermione peered at the English translation that was written in Theo’s loopy script. 

“The flower only blooms at night and only a few times a year. The user can apparently extract a rather deadly toxin from the pollen produced during blooming.” Hermione read and then frowned as she looked back over the toxicology reports of the murder.

“Indicum shimmer! I know that poison.” Hermione gasped, remembering that lunch date with Theo Neville and Draco at the beginning of summer. “But wait Harry, what does all this have to do with Avela?”

“So you actually do keep a minuscule amount of confidentiality Potter. I must say I’m impressed, but maybe in the future, you should consider keeping one of your smartest friends in the loop of your cases if you are keeping your suspended nemesis appraised.” Draco waved his wand and placed markers on a map for where the flower bloomed naturally, the deaths of Casper Crouch, and Sabrina Nimbus, as well as the last known sightings of Rastaban and Rodolphus. 

“It matches, but it can’t be that simple. Rastaban in the same place as Crouch and Rodolphus as Nimbus?” Hermione questioned moving closer to the map.

“No, the dates are weeks apart, but it’s far too much of a coincidence to completely dismiss it. Not to mention that Draco said Avela had contact ‘months ago.’ Well, we had a rather nasty encounter with the two of them months ago and they’ve been separate since.” Harry answered, but Hermione noticed that Draco gripped the spot where his dark mark was at the mention of their encounter.

“What happened back in April?” Hermione asked, turning towards Draco, not Harry.

“They separated. Harry and the majority of the team went out to supposedly search for them while I surveyed their hideout for any clues or contacts. I know the spells they used and I know their tactics. It was supposed to be a quick survey while the trail was still hot. Tips to find the other runaways. We were wrong that the both of them had left, Rodolphus was still in there.” Draco cringed and gripped his arm. Hermione swore she could hear hissing coming from it.

“We fought, and we weren’t quiet about it. He reactivated my Dark Mark. It’s got a hex built into it, and you best believe good old Uncle Roddy knew the spell to start torturing his nephew.” The room gasped, but Draco continued. 

“I was holding on my own well enough, but Potter and his squad returned at just the wrong time.” Draco paused and his eyes darkened in anger.

“A newer Auror caught Draco casting the Cruciatus curse. He made enough noise that Draco severed the connection and Rodolphus got away. The little git made me report Draco for casting it and Psych gave Draco a six months suspension on the grounds that torturing one's own family members should cause great psychological trauma.” Harry explained with an increasingly mocking tone.

“Obviously the ministry had forgotten who I had as a dinner guest from July of 1997 to May of 1998.” Draco turned away and waved his wand to his cabinets which started opening. Five glasses floated out and a bottle of scotch began filling them. Draco waved his hand for Harry to continue while the drinks were being poured.

“Well, Psych and the DMLE head told me he was lucky to still be on the force at all. So I’m out a top Auror and about to do a case about Death Eaters without my resident expert. So I did something you would do, and I got my information from a restricted source anyway.” Harry gripped the side of the table and Hermione knew her friend felt guilty. 

Harry clearly didn’t blame Draco for casting the curse, and the more Hermione thought about it, the more she didn’t blame Malfoy for casting the curse either. The Lestrange brothers weren’t easy adversaries and dark magic came easier than light in times of stress. 

“I’m alive because I did the bloody curse, and I don’t regret it. No one died that day because it was powerful enough to scare him off and force him to go recover. Rodolphus was inner circle, he could have information about where the others are. That was a man worth more alive than dead. The ministry doesn't want all you Gryffindors to know this, but there are plenty of legal spells that could kill him easily. However, there are not very many that are stronger than the protection wards of the Dark Mark. There aren’t very many that last long enough to get him into magic binding cuffs, and even fewer are actually practical enough to use in the field.” The drinks were now hovering weightlessly over the table, and Hermione gripped her glass gently. 

Hermione took a slow sip from the scotch and relished in how smooth it was before asking, “So what’s your plan, Harry?” 

Harry smirked and turned to look at Theo and Draco who actually seemed excited at the prospect.

“I’m going to become everyone’s favorite socialite. The Boy Who Lived is about to become the life of the party. These murderers are attacking the rich and famous. There’s been a death threat given to the Morgana tea society. That’s something I’d like you to help out with if you can. 

“I’ll contact my mother Granger, and you can have tea with her. She is on our side in this. She will help.” Draco whispered softly next to her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. 

“Draco’s got a table at the Merlin Yacht society and we’re going to have lunch there. The goal is getting myself a bid. Luckily for you Hermione, you’ve been spending the summer with this lot already, so a few trips with Narcissa and Pansy wouldn’t be suspect. We’re going to need to blend in as seamlessly as possible for this to work out. I’m finally taking up Malfoy’s offer on finding out which Wizarding families are the good ones and which are the bad ones.” Harry spoke before taking a long sip of his whiskey.

“Only took you 13 years.” Draco teased and started jotting down a list of names.

“What are you writing?” Hermione questioned looking at the parchment.

“Every society, sports club, and restaurants you could claim a table at that had known Death Eaters as prominent members. Obviously these are all ones that my family also was a part of so that I could get you into them, but the ones that aren’t Longbottom should be able to squeeze an invitation to. Thank Merlin, Gryffindors are good for something.” Draco muttered without malice in his voice.

“Well, there is one little problem guys,” Neville mentioned softly.

“What is it, love?” Theo questioned placing a hand on Neville’s bicep.

“Someone’s gotta train Harry on how to bloody act! Hermione’s a lady so there’s a lot of things people do for her or give her a pass on, but Harry…” Neville cringed. Hermione stared as the color was wiped from Theo and Draco’s face.

“Sweet Salazar,” Draco started.

“He’s practically a neanderthal,” Theo added.

“I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Draco ran a hand roughly through his hair. Then Theo and Draco went through a rapid fire volley of statements that Hermione only half caught.

“Draco his dress—“

“Circe no, that’s actually gotten better.”

“His dinner manners, please—”

“Atrocious.”

“Conversation?”

“Blunter than stabbing someone with a butterknife.”

“I’m right here guys!” Harry tried to call attention to himself, only to be ignored as Neville joined in on the conversation.

“What if we keep him quiet?”

“Yes because Harry Bloody Potter has ever known when to shut up.” Draco threw his arms up and began to shuffle through his cabinet to pull out a bottle of gin. 

“Can-he-dance?” Theo asked, exasperated.

“I— you know I haven’t the foggiest.” Draco answered as he waved a wand and started fixing himself a dry martini.

“Granger, can Potter dance? And do you care for vermouth?” Draco questioned nearly in the same breath.

“Well, Harry is okay, and not really to be honest.” Hermione responded and cringed at the offending glare Harry shot her. Apparently okay was not the appropriate response.

“Well, then we’re doomed. And you shouldn’t like vermouth Hermione, it’s rubbish.” Draco responded as he poured out the mixture into martini glasses. 

“We aren’t doomed, we have one option.” Theo murmured over the last dredges of his whiskey.

“No, we couldn’t.” Draco gasped out.

“If we send Potter to them combined…” Theo started to reason.

“They would certainly finish what the Dark Lord tried to do. I don’t even hate Potter enough to send him to both of them for lessons.” Draco called out as he levitated the glasses as well as a little plate of cheese and bread to the table.

“We don’t have time for just one. The summer season is halfway over, and once fall starts it’s invitation only. If Mister Potter and Miss Granger are not at least in one society as members then your entire mission is shot.” Theo implored. Draco looked resigned as he stirred his drink with a little toothpick and olive. Staring down at her own glass she noticed the toothpick was shaped like a snake.

“Guys, where are you sending me?” Harry asked, worried.

“To Blaise and Pansy. I’m sorry Potter, it’s our only choice.” Draco patted Harry roughly on the back as somewhat of an apology. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY. I am only on time for you.
> 
> Also, these reviews have been amazing. Hit me up on discord or tumblr because I love you all so much. You give me muse!!!


	16. Rumors Spread with Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they eat pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missELY, saving lives when I've been lazy/tired all week.

The five of them discussed plans of how Harry and Hermione would best infiltrate higher society. Hermione’s part seemed to be rather easy. It was mostly her continuing her friendship with Theo and Draco, and maybe furthering a relationship with Pansy.

Harry had the daunting task of trying to become an actual member of the gentlemen’s clubs Draco and Theo were a part of. Because of the war, Harry was the rightful heir to House Potter and House Black. Both Houses were ancient, and there was quite a bit of precedence for Harry to make himself known at the society clubs and parties. However, that also meant Harry had very high standards to live up to. 

While Theo and Draco had something that resembled an argument on how best to get Pansy and Blaise to teach Harry how to act around high society people, Hermione took the time to look atHarry closely.

He was dressed in jeans and a t- shirt, as was to be expected of him on a Saturday evening. He had just gotten a haircut, but Harry never did much with styling it. So, while Theo, Draco and Harry all went for the ‘ruffled’ look, Theo and Draco looked effortless, as though every strand was perfectly placed. Harry looked like he just rolled out of bed. 

Theo and Draco had both stripped down to their oxfords and trousers, but the shirts were perfectly pressed and tailored to fit them like a glove. Harry had never really learned how to buy clothes that fit him and tended to purchase things a size or two too big. Even Neville, who was both more clean cut in appearance and more casual in style, was perfectly poised in his sweater vest and t-shirt. The three men looked purposeful, elegant. Without Hermione knowing where any of their clothing was from, she could tell that it cost much more than Harry’s. 

To Theo, Draco, and Neville who had grown up in a world of elegance and poise, Harry stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Hermione was brought out of her observations by Draco pounding his glass on the table. “Come on Nott. You know I’m right! The easiest way to get Pansy or Blaise to do what you want is to stroke their ego.”

“Be that as it may Draco, Potter is not a Slytherin, he’s not going to flirt with Pansy or Blaise.” Theo rolled his eyes and swirled the final dredges of a glass of wine he was drinking. 

The group had gone through whiskey, gin, vodka, rum, wine, beer, and were currently in the middle of whatever bottle was closest to them. Hermione was holding a merlot from 1987. Draco said it was a good year. Hermione thought that drinking it straight from the bottle probably wasn’t the best way to honor that year. However, The glass was starting to become a hindrance to her drinking while Draco and Harry were taking shots of Pixie Gin like it was water. 

“I have a girlfriend, Malfoy. I’m not cheating on Ginny for the sake of a mission.” Harry frowned and adjusted his glasses. 

“I’m not saying you have to shag them, just make them seem like, you know, if the circumstances were different, you may  _ want _ to shag them.” Draco tried to explain before Hermione’s stomach growled. She blushed quite profusely and curled in on herself as the other men stared at her.

“Your mother would kill you Draco, you’re practically starving the girl.” Theo teased while punching Draco lightly on the arm.

“My Gran would’ve had me serve at least some biscuits and tea by this point.” Neville added with a grin and Theo rewarded Neville’s jest with a swift kiss. 

“Fine, fine, fine. I’m sorry Granger, it is apparent that Potter’s manners are contagious and I’m sure you didn’t eat at the Greengrass function with everything going on. What would you like to eat?” He asked bowing to her. He began to turn towards his kitchen.

“Wait! I think Harry and I might have a better idea.” Hermione grinned and turned to Harry with a knowing look.

Harry had his cellphone in his pocket, and a quick phone call to Sal’s Pizza meant that three pizzas, some breadsticks, and a cola would be arriving within the hour. Theo, Neville and Draco seemed to be enamored by Harry’s cell phone, and even more so that muggles had a service like Deliverfloo.

“You’re telling me muggles can contact all of their friends no matter where they are and order takeaway wherever they are?” Neville groaned before stealing the little device and looking at it.

“Wherever is a bit of a stretch. I’ve spent enough time around here that I know of a place that’ll deliver to this area. You generally need to be close to the restaurant for people to deliver to it. Honestly, I was just surprised Malfoy bought a place in muggle London.” Harry shrugged and shuffled around in Draco’s refrigerator for a bottle of beer.

“Muggle London, my perfect arse! My home is zoned for apparition, I could get all of my Floo connections installed, and there are at least three halfblood households in this neighborhood. Just because your pizza restaurant is close enough to deliver, and I have electricity does not mean I’m living like a muggle.” Draco argued as he took the phone from Neville and pressed a few buttons till he had reached Harry’s contact list. 

Scrolling down Draco stopped at a number and frowned. “Granger, you have one of these devices?” Draco asked, holding the screen with her contact number in her face.

Hermione nodded. “I left it at home because I thought I was just going to the Greengrass’ and back.” 

Giving Harry back his phone, Draco looked between Neville and Theo, the three men having some sort of silent conversation that consisted mostly of nodding.

“Granger, you’re going to use my muggle credit card to buy Longbottom, Nott and I phones, and you’re going to teach us how to use them. There is no way Avela or the Lestrange brothers would have any idea how to use these devices, let alone how to track one.”

“You have a muggle credit card?” Harry asked before Hermione had the chance to. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. He then pulled out a black American Express card that was behind a few galleon bills. 

Gringotts had been slowly transitioning into paper money. After both the French and Spanish governments had done so, the goblins weren’t going to be outdone., The Goblins transfigured the gold coins into thin, malleable sheets. They were much lighter to carry, and for people like Draco—who often dealt in rather large amounts— was now possible to walk around with two-hundred galleons without lugging it on their back. 

“Malfoy Estates has quite a few properties that are now sold on the muggle real estate market. Father’s endeavors in America were also very lucrative, and we now own a pharmaceutical company there that performed quite nicely during the war. Obviously, my broker handles all of my muggle dealings—halfbloods, so useful you know—“ He paused and Theo nodded back as if the two were talking about a kitchen appliance.

“But on occasion, I have to make an appearance and sign a few forms. The muggles think I’m some spoiled pretty boy who doesn’t know the first thing about business. I’m happy to let them think that, and then have Taylor show off her fancy muggle business degree, and prove that even if I don’t know shite about muggle businesses, I certainly can acquire someone that does.” 

“Taylor is…” Hermione questioned and looked around the room for clarification. 

“Malfoy’s second broker. But honestly, she’s like Malfoy’s CEO and personal assistant rolled into one. She did an internship at Gringotts after getting an MBA from Cambridge. She’s wicked smart. Kinda reminds me of you, Hermione.” Harry responded and Hermione pursed her lips at the idea of yet another smart, powerful—and probably beautiful—woman in Draco’s life. The man practically bordered on having a harem at this point. 

“Taylor still trying to get Pansy to go on a date with her?” Theo asked with a chuckle.

“Yes, and I have to break the woman’s heart that my ex girlfriend doesn’t swing that way. You and her have similar bouts of insanity.” Draco teased as he cleaned up the documents that were on the table with a wave of his wand.

“Oh, I like to call it a fair amount of optimism. Neville and I—“ Theo paused as Neville glared at him. “Well, I will always be waiting with open arms if you ever decide you’ve always been bisexual.” 

“Nott, I don’t share. You know I don’t share. Longbottom is a good bloke, but even if I swung that way, I’m not sharing with a Gryffindor.” Draco rolled his eyes and poured another couple of shots for him and Harry.

“You just haven’t slept with enough Gryffindors. I’m sure Miss Granger and Mister Potter can attest to what it’s like to take a romp in the lion's den.” Theo purred and kissed Hermione on the cheek, pilfering her bottle of wine in the process.

“Nope, I’m not talking about Ron in this household.” Hermione shook her head and took the wine back after pouring Theo a glass.

“Then you know the house rules. Honestly Hermione, what you probably need is a good Slytherin shag to cleanse your palate. You know we all have forked tongues.” Draco teased and Hermione blushed scarlet in response. 

“My darling, when was the last time you were properly ravished? It’s not healthy to go celibate for long periods of time.” Theo asked with a surprising amount of sincerity. 

“Hermione, don’t tell me it’s been since Krum.” Harry questioned when Hermione had been silent for more than a minute.

“Krum? The quidditch player? Oh you temptress you must tell me everything.” Theo grinned and gripped her arm excitedly. Hermione frantically looked around for someone to save her and was met with Draco smirking at her.

“It was just a rebound. Ron and I had broken up and he was in town. Nothing came of it.” Hermione shook her head roughly and then stopped as she questioned why she was trying to convince them he meant nothing.

“Quite a notch on your belt, Granger. I’m impressed.” Draco chuckled and poured out a third shot for her.

“Yes because The Crowned Prince has slept with a woman in every industry, and even he hasn’t bagged an international Quidditch star.” Theo explained with a wave of his hand. 

“Yes, well if Krum was your last one Hermione, that was over a year ago.” Harry stated and then Theo and Draco quickly went to her side.

“A year ago. You poor thing.” Theo patted her hair and smoothed it down as if she had suffered a terrible tragedy.

“Granger, what’s wrong with you? Have you sworn off men or something?” Draco asked, putting the shot in her hand and downing his own.

“No, I’m just busy.” She huffed downing the shot, cringing at the taste. She never was one for shots, or gin.

“Hogwash, I’m busy too, next reason?” Draco asked, pouring her another one.

“I guess no one’s really asked me on any dates.” Hermione mumbled as she frantically looked between the two men, then to Harry and Neville who were getting further and further away from the table.

“I’m saying that’s a load of bollox. You’re gorgeous, Miss Granger. I am positive you are nearly overwhelmed with gentleman callers.” 

“I guess it’s just never been the right time.” Hermione blushed deeply. 

“Sweet Salazar Granger, it should be a priority for you to be fulfilling your desires. Who knows what next she’s going to say. Talk like this makes me think the Weaselbee never got her off.” Draco shook his head and paused when Hermione didn’t immediately chide him.

“He did, right Granger?” 

“Yes, yes I’m sure he did.” Hermione stammered and cursed her intoxicated state for making her unable to defend Ron better.

“I’m sure? I’m sure?! Merlin’s beard, I think the Weasel has done it again. He’s disappointed me to new lows. You poor, beautiful, woman. I hope Krum rocked your world princess, because if you were stuck with Weasley for years, you deserved a good orgasm or six.” Draco laughed and Hermione wanted to disappear into her dress. 

“Oh darling, this isn’t your fault. You’re beautiful. Draco here just has a… let’s say Pansy started a few rumors about our friend here that weren’t entirely fabricated.”

“So you really can bring a woman to her knees in ten minutes?” Neville questioned and Hermione whipped her head around to look at her fellow Gryffindor.

“It happened once or twice, yes. But the danger of being caught by swotty prefects while in a secret chamber or unassuming broom cupboard made you learn how to be efficient.” Draco winked at Hermione and she glared back at him.

“You were supposed to be a prefect too, Draco!” Hermione chastised but then relaxed. They were years out of school. What did it matter?

“Nice to know the rumors got around to Gryffindor tower. I’m curious Granger, what was my reputation in your hallowed halls?” He whispered in her ear and Hermione felt a rush of desire run down the length of her spine.

Clenching her jaw, Hermione thought for a moment about how to respond. He’d been teasing her nonstop, maybe she could do the same.

“Well let’s see, we had the poncey ferret prince. We had your royal highness the prat. You were the heir of Slytherin for a bit, though that changed to Pointy Daddy’s boy, and… just around the girls' dorms, The Popping Cherry Prince.” Hermione smirked and Harry and Neville cracked up at the nicknames Hermione had revealed. 

Draco seemed to be unfazed by the names and merely grinned at the final one. “My reputation precedes me. Nice to know you were quite the rumor starter even in Hogwarts, Nott.” 

“Wait, they were lies?” Harry asked happily. 

“If they were about Draco’s promiscuity, yes. He was incredibly faithful. Draco went through a bit of a whore phase in seventh year, but that was to be expected considering what he was going through. Neither of you were actually at school to witness those times, so any rumors you would hear were false. However, I didn’t spread any about his talents, that was Pansy’s prerogative. Little minx liked to make other women jealous. You’ll have to ask her if they’re real or not.”

There was a knock on the door and Harry stood to get the pizza. He returned and plopped the boxes on the table with a smile. 

“Add it to the list Draco,” Harry smirked as he opened the first box. Hermione snatched up a slice immediately. 

“I will withhold all points until I have eaten and determined if it’s decent. Although, the pizza Blaise’s elves produce is going to be very hard to beat.” Draco smirked and waved his wand to move some plates over to the table. 

“Then keep the points. But, that does remind me. Doesn’t Blaise have a thing for Quidditch players? I could have Ginny introduce him to some of the girls on the team.” Harry offered with a grin on his face. 

“Points given anyway for showing your Slytherin side, Potter. If you can’t seduce, a well-placed bribe can do the work. But what about Pansy?” Draco hummed and put a slice of pepperoni on a plate. 

“Pansy is a beast of a woman to deal with, but she is willing to negotiate.” Theo offered as he nibbled on a breadstick. 

“Do not make a deal with Pansy Parkinson lightly. The last one cost me quite a lot of money.” Draco said, and the three boys cringed in agreement. 

“What if we use your fame as an incentive? Does Pansy have a men’s line?” Hermione asked the group. 

“Not publicly, but she’s made something for all of us one time or another. Either way, it wouldn’t be enough.” Theo sighed. 

“Wait, I’ve got it. What does Pansy love more than anything in the world?” Neville shouted out only to have the group look at him in confusion. Then slowly, a wide grin first spread across Theo’s face and the Draco’s, as if the idea traveled from one man to the others. 

“Oh, my love, you’re brilliant. I think I may make a Slytherin of you yet.” Theo smiled and kissed his boyfriend deeply. 

“Pansy is a woman of many vices. But she loves one thing more than anyone in the world, revenge. Her last conquest cheated on her with one Hannah Abbot. Pansy isn’t private, so the witch knew he was taken.” Draco explained when Hermione nudged him for some clues. 

“You still got a bit of mischief in you, Potter. It’s for that greater good you love so much.” Draco offered with his hand out. 

Pausing to consider the scheme, Harry nodded and shook Draco’s hand. “Let’s make me a gentleman.”

  
  



	17. Good Girls Go to Azkaban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one about the second Monday of the Month.

Hermione woke up on the floor of Draco’s living room. She was surprised, she didn’t remember falling asleep. Her last thought had been her decision to take an extended blink. Rubbing her eyes, Hermione looked around to see if she could gauge how long her accidental nap was. 

Harry was currently passed out in one of Draco’s lounge chairs. His head draped over the arm while his long legs dangled off the other end. His glasses were precariously placed over the tip of his nose, nearly off his ears entirely. Hermione chuckled and stood, putting the spectacles to rest on a nearby side table. 

Theo and Neville were curled up on the couch together, snoozing peacefully. Despite the fact that Theo was probably 5’10, he looked positively petite held in Neville’s arms. Neville was much broader in stature than Theo and was currently holding the slimmer man like a body pillow. The two seemed like an unlikely pair, but in person, she had such fondness for the couple. 

Hermione felt a dryness in her throat and realized she had the makings of a hangover. Shuffling in the kitchen so she could at least attempt to hydrate herself, Hermione saw Draco standing over the stove. 

He had changed clothes. He was dressed in a pair of linen navy pants and something that resembled a white t-shirt but was made of a different material. He also wasn’t wearing shoes. Hermione had known Draco since she was eleven years old and she didn’t think she’d ever seen his bare ankles, let alone his toes. He had long legs that swooped into surprisingly dainty ankles and he was rolling the left one around while he stirred a cauldron lazily. He had a potions book levitated next to him, but it must have mostly been for show, as Draco was reading a novel while he stirred. 

Stepping closer, she cringed at the creak of the floorboard that gave away her approach. Draco lifted his head and smiled at her. 

“Good evening, princess. Glad to see you’ve rejoined us in the realm of the living.” Draco winked at her. He glanced down at his book before dog-earing his page. Hermione cringed at the sight.

“Feel free to draw and quarter me for my crimes against books. This is my favorite, and It’s been through a lot worse than this.” He grinned and moved towards her. 

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Hermione questioned pointing at a silver bookmark sitting on the counter.

“Earing the page, no. I do that quite often in my personal reading. Doing it in front of you, however?” He trailed off and Hermione rolled her eyes before looking around for a clock.

“What time is it?” She asked before a yawn shook her. She felt the urge to go back to sleep, on Draco’s floor or not.

“It’s nearly midnight. I’m just brewing up a hangover potion so I’m not completely wrecked in the morning.” Turning back towards the cauldron, Draco checked his watch and added a few herbs.

“Sober Up? At this time of night?”

While a very effective tool in curing a hangover, or preventing one from happening, Sober Up was still full of caffeine. Too much of it left Hermione feeling jittery. 

“Oh yes, I’ve combatted that. Took me years to perfect it, but I’ve managed to stabilize a combination of Calming Draught potion with a Sober Up. It’s a time-sensitive thing and—blast it all, I’m not in the mood to explain shite to you, Granger, just read my notes and be impressed on your own.” He said while stirring the cauldron. The normally lime green tone of the Sober Up potion turned a calming sage. 

“I may just have to take you up on that.” Hermione grinned and walked towards the book. It was levitated at chest level for Draco, which placed it just above her head. She reached up to grab the book and began reading Draco’s adjusted recipe. 

He was brilliant. He was a potions master without the certification. Flipping through the beginning of the book Hermione noticed that they were all his recipes. There were combined potions, cheaper alternatives, and new strains and flavors of existing ones. Draco didn’t  _ need  _ to make potions, these recipes were something he did in his free time. 

Hermione flipped back to Draco’s Calming Sober Up recipe and seeing how Draco had perfected the formula nearly made her gasp. It was so obvious now that she saw the ingredients and instructions, yet no one had succeeded before him. Sober Up and Calming Draught were often used together, but without the stabilizer, it was a toss-up as to which one would work. The uncomfortable result was often being tired and jittery all at once. She was so caught up in her reading that she didn’t realize Draco had come up behind her until he spoke.

“Don’t try and steal any of my recipes, okay Granger? A couple of those are in talks to be sold for very high prices.” Draco whispered against her ear. He was close enough that she could feel his stubble against her cheek. She pulled back slightly to see him and noticed that he was reading the recipe. From his notes, this next part was pretty time-sensitive, and he had made several corrections to the instructions. 

He was blocking her in, so she couldn’t move out of his way. Sighing and waiting for the moment to pass, Hermione held the book open for him.

He was so warm. She always imagined him to be cold, but Draco’s touch was always warm to her. He smelled like leather, and paper, and apples, and Hermione wanted to lean back into his touch. It was almost hilarious how similar Draco smelled to the Amortentia potion, that day all those years ago in Slughorn’s potion class. The love potion smelled almost identical to Draco, minus that one scent she still couldn’t place. She was overwhelmed with the urge to bury her nose in his chest to get a better smell. Blaming that on her still inebriated state, Hermione took a deep breath, and somehow that destabilized her enough to stumble back and into Draco’s chest.

“Looks like you may need this even more than I do Hermione. Don’t worry I’ve got you.” Draco whispered as his right hand gripped her hip to steady her. 

His hands were massive. They easily encompassed her hip. He held her with a bit of force to keep her steady while he worked. He was barely paying attention to her, simply looking at his notes and waving his wand around to empty ingredients into the pot. 

If Hermione was sober, she would’ve chastised herself for staring up at him like an idiot. If she was sober, she would’ve informed Draco that she was fine and he could let go at any time. If she was sober, she would’ve been able to stop herself from placing her hand on top of his. 

“I’m almost done, princess. Think you can count to 14 for me? I’ll be sure to give you a serving of this if you are a good girl and help me.” Draco chuckled and gave her hip a light squeeze before letting it go. 

“Well, I never.” Is what Hermione said. However, her mind was split between her being angry he was teasing her and turned on by how he asked her to be a good girl. Hermione did always loved to be praised. Huffing, she rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement to his request regardless.

“1…2…3…4” Hermione droned on as Draco stirred the cauldron with his left hand and added ingredients with his right. Hermione felt lulled into a sense of relaxation. She stared into the swirling green of the cauldron and by 14 she felt soothed enough to fall into a deep sleep.

“Good girl. Gimme one second to bottle this up for the idiots, and I’ll take you to bed.” Draco smiled and gripped her arm before walking to a cabinet where potion vials were stored.

“Are you always this cheeky?” Hermione asked while she shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her head. 

“Only when you look so adorable. You’re quite the kitten when you’re not hissing at me for this or that.” Draco winked at her before grabbing a funnel and spooning the potion into a few vials. 

“I’m tired, ok?!” Hermione rolled her eyes. 

He placed a vial in her hands.

“Drink that, then this glass of water, Hermione.” Draco chuckled and went to his fridge to get a pitcher of ice water. Waving his wand to grab her a glass, he poured her a glass of water and handed that to her after she had downed the potion.

“You’re very bossy.” Hermione murmured but drank the water nonetheless.

“You are absolutely not allowed to call anyone else bossy, Hermione Granger. You are so drunk right now, a little bit of guidance could do you some good.” Draco shook his head and gripped her hand once she set down the empty glass.

Hermione was bewildered as Draco guided her up the stairs and into a random room. 

“I thought you were joking about taking me to bed,” Hermione said with a nervous laugh reached her.

“What?! Yes, of course, I…” Draco paused as the implication of Hermione’s statement reached him. 

“Merlin Hermione, what kind of man did you think I was? You’re considerably more drunk than I am. I want you to rest up and I’ll see you in the morning.” Draco huffed and left the room immediately. 

Hermione was confused at Draco’s outrage. She was tired and the potion was starting to work, so her urge to sleep only got stronger. Groaning at her frustration, she let her drunk brain rest and quickly climbed into the comfort of the bed.

***************

The next morning Hermione woke up feeling amazing. She was fully rested and very comfortable under the fluffy white duvet. For just a moment she was very happy that she could have a lie-in that Monday morning. Thank Merlin for Wizarding bank holidays. 

However, she soon remembered that she was not in her own house, and was in fact in Draco’s guest room. Hopping up out of the bed, she quickly glanced at her reflection in the mirror. 

“I look a fright. Oh god, there isn’t enough hair potion in the world that could tame this mess.” Hermione groaned as she quickly tried to braid her hair up in a single dutch braid down her back. The tumbleweed that was her hair this morning was somewhat tamed, and she resigned to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. 

Sneaking through the hallway, Hermione tried to enter Draco’s Floo room without alerting anyone to her presence. She got as far as the kitchen when Harry spotted her and called out.

“‘Mione! Come over, Malfoy’s elf made a huge breakfast for us.” Harry grinned and pulled her into Draco’s dining room. 

Harry was in white trousers and a close-fitting shirt that Hermione recognized as summer quidditch gear. Theo was dressed similarly, while Neville was in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve button-down. They all seemed to be showered and changed, and Harry’s hair was even wet. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at the time. Her eyes widened at the stark 10:43 that glared at her. 

“I’m going home,” Hermione stated and turned to leave.

“Oh Miss Granger, don’t change on our account. Mr. Potter, I’m sure can get you a change of clothes, and I rather like your current look. It’s very ‘the morning after.’” Theo stood as soon as he saw her, with Neville quickly following. Neville glared at him, and Theo quickly pulled Neville into a kiss to silence whatever thing Neville was going to say.

“Oh no, I look like shite. I’m going home, showering, and changing. Where’s Draco?” Hermione asked. Harry and Theo shrugged.

“It’s the second Monday,” Harry said as if that was explanation enough. 

“Yes, now tell me where Draco is.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest while she tapped her fingers on her arm.

“Oh, Hermione I just… well on the second Monday of the month he…” Harry started, and Theo finished for the clearly uncomfortable Harry.

“He escorts Lady Malfoy to visit Lord Malfoy on this day of the month, Miss Granger.”

******************

Draco sighed as he sat in the office of the Warden of Azkaban. The tea was shite, and Draco hated the Warden from his own time at Azkaban, but Draco wasn’t here for himself. He was here for his mother, and that was enough to stomach sitting across from a man who clearly thought Draco should still be in the hallowed halls of the prison.

Narcissa Malfoy walked back into the office at 10:48 and nodded to Draco. She would never show it in front of other people, but Draco knew it was still devastating for her to have her husband in prison for so long. Lucius was sentenced to a minimum of fifteen years in Azkaban, greatly reduced by Draco’s plea deal and information both of them gave the Wizgamont. Lucius had two years left before he could petition that his sentence be converted to house arrest. 

Draco’s mother held his hand tightly, and Draco handed her a cup of tea before walking into the visitors' room.

Lucius Malfoy was a powerful man. Draco always pictured him with silver-white hair and impeccable robes. Poised and deadly, like the snakes their family was so fond of. Seeing him with ragged hair and a dingy grey uniform didn’t sit well with Draco.

“Draco, I see you’ve been busy. Your mother tells me that the young Miss Avery has returned to the country and you’ve taken the Granger girl under your wing.” Lucius did not ask questions, he made statements. Even in prison, Lucius Malfoy had influence and power.

“Yes, Nova is back for a project Pansy is working on. Hermione Granger is a part of that same project.” Draco replied even, measured. No one gave Lucius Malfoy an inch of information lightly.

“You would do well to keep our time-honored alliances well and accounted for. Certain members of our  _ family  _ may not be as approving as I.” Lucius advised. Draco crossed his legs while he thought of a response. 

So his father had heard about Rastaban and Rodolphus resurfacing. Draco thought that perhaps he could give insight into Draco’s Avela situation.

“Yes,  _ certain  _ family members are not happy being watched due to their relationship with alleged criminals. Those family members are also unhappy with who I keep in my corner.” 

“You are ambitious Draco, as are all Malfoys. Who you have in your corner will keep our family in the circle of power. Keep your circle powerful, you desired a career outside of the estate. I assume that has become useful?” Lucius asked. Draco pursed his lip in thought.

His father had long disapproved of Draco becoming an Auror. It was dirty work, that being a foreign concept to the Malfoys. For him to call it useful meant that Lucius agreed in Draco’s feeling that Avela wasn’t bluffing. Ministry protection was powerful and influential. Draco wasn’t just an ex-Death Eater that had been threatened. He was a ministry Auror and partner to the Boy-Who-Lived. 

Draco nodded and went to thank his father for his advice, but Lucius spoke up again.

“Your mother also informed me of the reallocation of our Medusa’s Gaze. Need I remind you of your duty to your family as the future Lord Malfoy?” 

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With all the things going on in Draco’s life, he didn’t need his father judging whatever relationship Lucius thought Draco and Hermione had. 

“Father-“ he started before Lucius raised his hand and silenced Draco.

“You would not be the first Malfoy to have had… other options. But nothing must come of your straying.” Lucius informed Draco.

Draco was shocked that Lucius approved of Hermione enough to allow her to become Draco’s mistress. As daft an idea that it was.

“Father, this is not the time. I’d thank you to keep your advice to the topic.” Draco grit his teeth in his attempt to keep composure.

“Very well. I would advise you to write more. I will endeavor to write back interesting finds of my own.” Lucius smiled softly at his son. Draco knew that his father would use his inside sources to see what he could find out on his end.

“Thank you, it was good to see you well Father.” Draco stood and buttoned up his blazer before adjusting his robes so they laid properly. 

“You as well, Draco.” Lucius nodded and Draco left the room to his waiting mother. 

***********

“You told Father,” Draco spoke to Narcissa when they had left the prison and were on the boat leaving the property.

“Your father is a useful ally to have. You are reluctant to use him. He is only loyal to us, and you should be aware of that by now.” Narcissa said, patting Draco’s knee.

“He accused Hermione of being my mistress. Who is my betrothed then? Pansy? Nova?” Draco raised his brow and looked at his mother. 

“Isn’t she? Draco, do not be obtuse with me, it simply wastes time. I would be very happy if you had continued our family's plans with the Averys. You have a duty to complete, and that is much more of an approval than you or I would have expected. He’s changing Draco. You must understand that his change is not going to happen completely overnight.” Narcissa said, gripping her son’s hand.

“Are you saying that you approve of her?” Draco questioned, turning to look at his mother.

“Are you saying there is something I need to approve of?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank's to missELY for the usual miracle that is keeping this fic on schedule.
> 
> Thanks to magical_traveler for showing me that I can torture this slow-burn until it breaks the geneva convention.


	18. It’s All Laid Out on the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they drink tea and play Quidditch.

Harry informed Hermione that Draco generally liked to go flying after his trips to Azkaban, and the group was planning to head to Nott Manor as soon as he got back. Not one for flying, she decided to spend the rest of her day at home. 

**********

“How was Auntie Cissy and Lord Malfoy?” Theo asked Draco quietly as the group adjusted the protective gear on their persons. Ginny had just arrived to be the fourth player, with Neville politely declining to do more than enchant a quaffle or two. 

“Mother is as was expected. I think a part of her is counting down the days till we can put my father on house arrest. He said he’d use his insight to see if there is any talk on the inside. I have no doubt that if my father provides any amount of useful information, he’ll use it as leverage to move forward his parole date.” Draco sighed heavily while adjusting his armbands. 

“Lucius is motivated to help us then, it’s in everyone’s best interest that he is. Why do you look so upset?” Theo asked, knowing that his best friend ought to have been more excited about his father’s help. 

“He’s heard about Nova being back; he wants me to continue the ‘merger.’ He also heard the rumors surrounding Hermione and I. He congratulated me on finding an appropriate mistress, but I know that’s him disapproving in his own way. My father has never so much as glanced at another woman in the entire time I’ve known him, and he’s definitely had opportunities. It is nice to know that he was smitten for my mother from the start.” Draco picked up his broom and tested its stability in the wind. 

“That does remind me. I need to check up on her and see how things were for her last night. Yet another thing to add to my to-do list.” Draco added as he scrutinized the minuscule movements the broom made in the light breeze. 

“Lucius is many things, but an adulterer is not one of them. My father held that title. ‘ _Whatever a Nott sets their sights on is as good as theirs, let nothing stand in your way_.’” Theo rolled his eyes. 

“Look on the bright side. He obviously thinks highly of Hermione to allow your affair in the first place. She could be your Madame de Pompadour. It would play into how incredibly French you are. That is, unless you would prefer the solo company of Miss Avery.” Theo snickered. Draco punched him in the arm in retaliation. 

“Granger and I have not so much as gone on a date and my father thinks I’m about to make arrangements for her. I’ll probably need to have to tea with Nova to bury all the skeletons we have between us.” Draco groaned and held his broom still, satisfied with his understanding of the wind conditions. 

“Draco, you’re making plans for Hermione. You’re even settling things with your exes so there is nothing left unsaid. You hold her at the same level as Potter. It took him two years to get there, she’s been back in your life for two _months._ You gave her something from the vaults. I bet you’re planning a vacation soon, and you’ve automatically included her. Stop acting like she’s nothing to you when you’ve made it obvious to everyone that loves you she’s important.” Theo adjusted his glasses and turned away from Draco to talk to Ginny and Harry, clearly fed up with the way Draco had been acting. 

Ginny and Harry quickly swept Theo into the conversation and left Draco mostly to his own devices. Quickly remembering that he had not actually contacted Nova since he told her to lock in at the Avery homestead the night before, Draco summoned an elf to get him a bit of parchment and a quill. Writing a quick note, he let her know that all was well, and scheduled a date for them to get tea. He then gave the letter to the little elf and joined the group. 

********

Flying was something Draco would never pass up. It made him feel free and open. If there was ever a situation where Draco would lose his inability to fly, he knew that a part of him would die. 

The four of them were farting around Theo’s quidditch pitch, playing simple matches of two-on-two. No snitches, just one bludger and a charm on the rings at either end that made it so there was a 33% chance your shot wouldn’t make it. It was a much easier game to play with a smaller number of people. It also allowed Draco and Harry to continue the pretense of hating one another. 

The teams were neck and neck and the next shot was the one to determine the winner. Theo had the quaffle and Draco was set to catch it when his gaze caught on someone on the grounds. Missing the ball Theo threw entirely, Draco raced to the edge of the land Theo kept warded. There were Muggle repelling charms on the property, so they never got this close. Draco weaved around the property line to no avail. He could’ve sworn he saw a person just over the hillside. 

Flying back to the group slowly, Draco landed to where Ginny, Neville, Theo, and Harry were glancing at him worriedly. 

“Well?” Ginny asked, and the frightened look on her face made Draco think of that little girl possessed by Voldemort in Second Year. 

“It’s nothing. I thought I saw something. Must have been a deer or whatever.” Draco tried to shake it off, but he didn’t feel reassured. By the looks on everyone’s faces, neither did they. 

“I’ll reset my wards. Why don’t we all just tuck in for the rest of the day? You lot do go to work, don’t you?” Theo chuckled and started marching up the path back to the estate. Neville quickly caught up to Theo and wrapped his arm around the other man, the two having a whispered conversation. 

“I’ll contact you about the official nature of our assignment. The second you get Pansy and Blaise’s approval I want to start lessons and set us a lunch date for that yacht club as soon as possible. I don’t think I need to follow as many rules for lunch as a men’s yacht club.” Harry said quickly, his eyes darting around the land as if he could see people lurking about. If Draco was being honest, he was doing the same. 

“You’d be surprised, but I can probably get us a table by Wednesday. I’ll let you know about Pansy and Blaise’s schedules as soon as I talk to them. 

*********

  
Harry was rarely a nervous person. He didn’t fret like Hermione did, or pace like Ron did. A part of Hermione thought one of the main reasons people flocked to people like Draco and Harry for leadership was how still they kept themselves at all times. 

Hermione was not even the one who was being scrutinized by Blaise and Pansy, but she still felt the need to fidget in her chair. They decided to all congregate at Neville’s place. The Longbottoms owned an invisible floor of a building in London. It was a building Hermione vaguely remembered existing, but nothing remarkable about it. Was it a bank? A telecommunications company, an embassy? Either way, the building was actually a collection of wizard apartments, all owned by Neville’s family. It was very close to Diagon Alley, and the alleyway next to it made it one of the few spots in the area that was apparition approved. Neville’s gran was out for the week to visit a friend in Austria. Hermione alternated looking at Pansy and Blaise and the London skyline. 

“Okay. This is what we’ll do,” Pansy decided with a clap. “Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday you’ll go to Blaise for lessons on what to do and not do. I’ll go to your house and arrange your clothes by outfits. No changing, no adjustments, you wear something I’ve put together or you don’t leave the house. You’ll go to Draco’s for dance lessons on Tuesdays, and you might—just might—be able to attend the Greengrass ball come August.” Pansy sighed and Harry looked nearly exactly the way he did when Hermione gave him his O.W.L study schedule. 

“Switch me to Wednesday’s. I’ve got plans this Tuesday and I’d rather keep to a consistent schedule with our time crunch.” Draco commented from his position leaning against a wall. 

“Is all of this absolutely necessary? I mean dance lessons?” Harry questioned.

“It’s practically the basics. I’m trying to replace decades of lessons in a month.” Pansy groaned deeply. 

“Granger, are you free on Wednesdays?” Blaise asked her with a charismatic smile on his face. 

“Potter will learn faster if he has a consistent partner, rather than have Pansy trade-off between you and him.”   
  


“I mean, I guess. But I’m not the best partner.” Hermione murmured only to hear Draco tsk. 

“How many years, Hermione?” Draco questioned her without looking up from his cup of tea. 

“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked, turning towards him fully. 

“How many years of ballet have you had?” He clarified with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“I mean, a few lessons here and there, but how could you even—?” Hermione stumbled through one thought and straight into the next. 

“I could tell at the Yule ball. You weren’t trained in ballroom, but you had grace. More so than the girls who were truly beginners. Your footwork was practiced and fluid in certain movements. So I was pretty sure you’d had ballet lessons. Point of clarification Granger, how many lessons?” Draco smirked, and the group turned to her 

“My mother made me take them from the time I was six until I was ten. I tried to quit a few times, but then she’d just put me in the summer camps.” She rolled her eyes, remembering her mother’s attempts to get Hermione to make friends. 

“So it’s settled then. Hermione will be Harry’s partner on Wednesday’s. Perhaps you should join him for everything, eh?” Neville asked from the kitchen where he was making some snacks for the group. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Why subject more than one person to the torture of those two if they don’t have to, love.” Theo chuckled and waved off the suggestion. 

“Well, Hermione could use a refresher course. She’s fine, but there’s a lot of nuanced things she’s missing.” Neville explained and Theo gave him a look. Theo then murmured something about helping Neville in the kitchen and walked off. 

“Ooh. Mom is cross with dad.” Pansy snickered, moving to sit down next to Hermione. 

“Are they fighting?” Harry asked with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“You’re too dense to be an Auror, Potter.” Blaise rolled his eyes and joined them at the table. 

“I don’t want them to fight about something silly like that. I’ll just say I’m busy and can’t make it.” Hermione stood and moved to walk into the kitchen, stopping in her tracks at the sound of Neville cursing loudly. 

“Theo, come the fuck on. You know the way our kind is quick to judge. Why wouldn’t you want Hermione to get the help she’ll need.”

“Because Neville, you and I won’t put her ever in our world enough to need it. She’s a dinner date. A special invited guest. We aren’t the people who get to decide whether or not she becomes one of us.”

“Then who is—“ Neville stopped and frowned deeply. 

“I should’ve known. This is all about Draco. It’s always about bloody Draco Malfoy. You’re protecting him from Hermione now?”

“Neville stop.” Theo interrupted him with a hand touching his bicep. “This isn’t about that. It’s simply not my decision.” 

“No Theo, it is. You have no problem making decisions about Draco’s love life when it’s entertaining. However, suddenly it’s not your decision when it’s helping Hermione become better suited to being one of us?” Neville took a deep breath and covered his hand over the one Theo had on Neville’s arm. 

“I told you when we started this I spent my whole childhood being overlooked. I won’t play second fiddle to someone else, Theo. If you still love Draco—“

“I do,” Theo responded immediately, and Hermione quickly turned away. She shouldn’t have heard that. She entered into a private conversation between two people, and she shouldn’t have overheard. 

Hermione sat down in her chair and contemplated what she had just heard. Theo still had feelings for Draco. Did he want her to back off? He was such a good friend to her, was it to keep her close, or was he genuine? Did Draco know about this? Theo had told her he was over Draco, but he could’ve been lying. Hermione played with the edge of her dinner napkin until Theo and Neville returned with trays of pastries and sandwiches. 

The group ate in relative silence minus the glares that Pansy gave Harry until he ate with the amount of poise and decorum that she deemed acceptable. Draco caught Theo’s eye and with a nod of his head, the two walked out to the balcony connected to the sitting room. 

*******

“You two okay?” Draco asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. Offering one to Theo, who declined, the two men leaned on the railing and stared out into the busy London streets. 

“It’s more of the same, to be honest. I date a man. Things start out great. They meet my best friend and find out I used to be in love with him. Anytime I defend you for any reason they question my motivations. Sometimes I wonder when I’ll stop the cycle.”

Draco sighed and patted Theo lightly on the back. “Did you talk to Longbottom and explain things?” 

“Yeah, bless him and his Gryffindor nature. He is a bit more understanding of things when I explained our connection. Narcissa was my legal guardian until I turned seventeen. We’re practically brothers so if I have a fondness for you it’s pretty reasonable.” Theo rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll talk to him and explain things. I know how important Longbottom is to you. I actually like the fellow myself so that’s bound to count for something.” Draco laughed before taking a long drag. 

“It’s nice to know that we are clear and are on equal ground. I’d hate to live in a world where we don’t know who we are to one another.” Theo turned to Draco with a knowing eye. 

Blowing the smoke through his nostrils, Draco stamped out the cigarette and replied, “Tuesday. I’ll sort things out with her Tuesday.”

**********

“Nova, we need to talk.” Draco was calm on the exterior but if someone were to offer him the chance to postpone this conversation another seven years, he may have taken them up on the offer. 

“About what?” Nova asked, stirring the teaspoon in her cup, making sure it never touched the edges. 

“That night. I—I want to talk about what happened. I don’t think we can move on as friends until we do.” Draco looked down at his cup and the steam that was emitting from it. 

“We both made mistakes then. I—I—I’m sorry for trying to enchant you Draco. It was never my intention to hurt you. You were living with a madman. You were going to get the Dark Mark. You were going through so much; I just wanted you safe.” Nova explained and Draco quickly grabbed her hand. 

“Nova. You have to understand, it was basically the same thing for me to see you trying to enchant me into running away. It’s all manipulation. But still—“ Draco paused gripping his cup before looking at her. 

“I never meant to hurt you. I was angry and scared, and you never had tried to enchant me before, so I felt betrayed. Either way, it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m the worst of scum to hit a woman.” Draco spat his words, but Nova gently lifted his chin. 

“I forgive you Draco. It’s all in the past.” Nova purred and moved to kiss him. Just as their lips met Draco heard a camera snap and jerked his head around. 

“No, what have I done?” Draco hissed looking around the room for the paparazzi. 

“Draco, stop,” Nova said, holding his arm down. “You’re making a scene.”

“And you started a war with that kiss. That will be all over the papers by tomorrow if I don’t catch them. It will be just the fuel my mother needs to start marriage talks.” Draco was seething mad as he glared at her hand on his arm. 

“So what? We’ve been talking about getting married since we were seven. What’s a kiss going to do?” Nova questioned him as she removed her hand. 

“What if I don’t want to get married? What if I don’t want to marry you? I’ve spent my whole life being titled. The Young Master. The Crowned Prince. Lord Black. Lord Malfoy, it’s all the same. I just got used to being Draco Malfoy, and it’s really fucking nice. I’m nowhere near ready to be Lord Malfoy, and you may have just made me have to make a choice I can’t take back.” Draco grit his teeth as he waved a finger for a check. 

“Then let me help you make the right one.” Nova nodded at him and reached for his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was super tough to get through but I really want to know that this chapter wouldn’t have been out here without help.
> 
> Things are gonna really start rolling, you ready?


	19. Extra Extra Read All About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it hits the press.

Wednesday morning, the Prophet made the shot heard around the world. Wizard tabloids on both sides of the Atlantic were gushing over the new couple. Hermione scowled as she read the front-page headline Rita had plastered over The Daily Prophet. 

“ _THE MOST POWERFUL COUPLE IN A CENTURY. Yes, the model, philanthropist, and absolute doll Nova Avery has set her sights on our very own Dark Prince, Draco Malfoy! He’s had his fair share of romantic prospects over the years, but this reporter thinks he has finally found his queen. She’s already good with the future in-laws, or so we assume from the multiple sightings she’s had with Lady Narcissa Malfoy. Not to mention that as she is in the country to model Parkinson’s designs. We can only hope she’s been made part of the inner circle. I’ve known about this couple for ages, but am so happy the two have decided to go public. I certainly won’t be selfish with my information anymore, and can’t wait for you to see the two love birds. You’ll always get it from me first…”_

Hermione huffed at the photo spread that came alongside the rest of the articles. Images of the two at Parkinson’s, of them at the Greengrass party— a party Hermione didn’t remember seeing photographers. There was even a shot of their original lunch dates. It was captioned Draco Malfoy, Nova Avery, and friends. Hermione was irritated slightly at the slight of being unnamed, but the sheer fact that socialite Lord Theo Nott was turned into an unnamed friend was practically blasphemous in the eyes of the press. 

Putting down the article as she heard a knock on her door, Hermione was surprised to see Theo pop his head in. “Hello, dearie. Are you busy? I’ve come to talk about being relegated to supporting cast by the press.” He grinned shaking the paper in his hands.

Despite just thinking about the man, she was surprised to see him in person. Theo loved Draco, he was probably more furious about this article than she was. Theo wasn’t out to the press, he could never have a salacious kiss on the front page of the Prophet. 

Hermione realized she was silently staring at the man. 

“Don’t remind me,” she quickly uttered, “I’ve been hounded no less than five times from different girls asking for details on London’s new it couple.” Hermione rolled her eyes and offered Theo a seat with the wave of her hand.

Lounging across the arms of the chair, Theo sighed. “My father is going to kill me. He’s been writing to me all summer about how much I’ve been slacking. No permanent bids in any of the major social clubs, no influential witch from the right family on my arm, no impressive mergers to crow about. All of those things Draco has done within the year. Something that Lord Malfoy has no doubt gloated about to my father.”

The way Theo talked about his father was so flippant, casual, but the way his eyes were so dark and empty gave Hermione a feeling Nott Sr. was not a man to be trifled with. He must be going through so much at the moment. Was Theo confiding to her, or was he gaining her sympathy so he could manipulate her? 

“Are you and your father still on good terms?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“Trick question Miss Granger. We would’ve had to at one time been on good terms to have a ‘still’. When my mother died he distanced himself when he found out about my—“ Theo paused and cringed before continuing,“—proclivities, I longed for the neglect. Azkaban is not nearly far enough away without the dementors.” Theo closed his eyes and placed the paper over them. 

“He writes far too often. My father could make you shiver in terror with a well-written memo. Men that powerful shouldn’t be allowed contact with the outside world. It’s a good thing he currently hates Lord Malfoy, or I would fear for the planet. Two men that rich and powerful with nothing but time.” Theo spoke so seriously. Gone was the playful boy he acted like most of the time. This was a man that became Lord Nott at 15. This was a man who held onto such pain and showed it to no one.

Though, as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Theo returned to his role as the Cheshire cat. Moving the paper off of his face Theo sat up and grinned at Hermione. “How are you, my dear? I’m sure Draco is reeling at the moment. I wonder if he’ll be calm enough by tonight?”

“Oh bollocks, I’ve completely forgotten, I’m supposed to help Harry with his dance lessons tonight. I don’t want to deal with seeing Mr. Popular today.” Hermione groaned. She would be in close proximity to Draco for over an hour, and Hermione wasn’t even at the point where she could confront her jealousy. 

“I don’t envy you. I’m sure he is in the right sour mood.”

****************

Draco was in a right sour mood. The night before was rough. He’d left the restaurant and was probably too cold to Nova. It was strange that he had considered her a more viable match before she had tried to force his hand, though his father was bound to be pleased. Draco was expecting a letter from Lucius the moment the man heard the news. Draco’s sour mood led him to have a horrid night’s sleep. He had placed a bit of concealer under his eyes—his vanity rearing its ugly head—but no amount of makeup could hide the scowl that was a permanent fixture of his face today. He was currently standing against a wall in Parkinson’s, glaring at renowned potions master Fawn Fenrir. 

The short Asian woman had revolutionized the potions industry. She was the leading researcher in beast transformation and had just recently created synthetic wolfsbane. The potion, if it passed trials, would cut the price of the potion by half, and would revolutionize how werewolves would live their lives. 

Draco was supposed to have been happier than a kid in a candy store. It was the only photoshoot he actively wanted to go to. Draco had planned a list of questions to ask the woman when she was on her break, eager to talk about one of his favorite hobbies with such an expert. Instead, he was half watching the woman be photographed in a library while his brain went through his plan to silence the story about Nova and himself. 

It was front-page news. It was talked about on Wake Up Wizards and was definitely going to make Witch Weekly. He couldn’t deny the kiss, but maybe he could offset the dating accusation or engagement to some of the more salacious gossips on the WWN. Was it worth it to pay all of these people to retract their articles, or would he have more success in trying to create an even bigger story?

“Is he always this brooding?” Fawn asked Pansy as the photographers took a break to reset.

“He’s having a bit of a bad press day. How’s your hair holding up?” Pansy asked, looking at Fenrir’s intricate buns interwoven with black twine.

“I’ve had less painful cauldron burns, but it looks cool. You fashion types like that right?” Fenrir raised an eyebrow and Pansy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well aren’t you the clever Ravenclaw? So, do you wanna stare at Mr. Brooding over there some more, or are you ready to get changed?” Pansy asked, holding out a hand.

“I can hear you both.” Draco rolled his eyes before staring at the Daily Prophet in some dresser’s hand. The woman had just come in for a coffee run, and if looks could kill, Draco would’ve been sent back to Azkaban for murder that instant. 

“Touchy and broody.” Fenrir chuckled to Pansy before nodding and taking the taller woman’s hand as they walked back into a dressing room.

Draco sighed and walked over to his office, frowning when he heard a mysterious buzzing. Looking around the office he realized it was the phone Potter had bought him. Remembering that the green button was to answer the call, Draco pressed the button and held the phone up to his ear.

“Who is it?”

“Your friends are evil.” Harry’s voice could be heard through the line, and Draco relaxed in his office chair while the other continued.

“Your point?” Draco asked as he picked up his own copy of the Prophet with a scowl. 

“He charmed my chair?! I don’t even know how he did it, but he charmed my chair to sting me anytime I’m not sitting perfectly. How does it even know I’m slouching?! I’ve resorted to pacing around my own damn office.” 

Draco couldn’t help but chuckle at Harry’s irritation. His mother used a similar charm on him when he was a young boy. Crude at times, it was still very effective as Draco now had to actively choose to slouch or lounge. 

“Your chair is cushioned, Mr. Head Auror. The charm has to have equal weight distribution in the right places. The angle is all off. No weight on the back of the chair at all if you’re slouching. Too much weight if you lounge in it. Welcome to the etiquette classes I took at seven years old.” Draco snickered again. knowing how exacting the charm could be.

“Nice to know your family was into casual torture at such a young age.” Harry snickered. “I almost understand why you were such a little tosser when we were in school.”

“I know you’ve been shocked enough to make your hair look even more sentient, so I won’t hold that comment against you. However, watch yourself Potter, or I’ll change my mind about not charming your shoes to double the pain on you whenever you inevitably step on Pansy’s or Granger’s toes. No promises on what they do to you of their own free will.” Draco teased and let out a snort at the groan Harry expressed.

“I’m exhausted, Malfoy. I’ve had hours of lessons after a busy day of work. The amount of books Blaise gave me to read looks like Hermione’s level of insanity. I work a full-time job. Now I know why most of you rich people don’t work. It’s draining being this posh all the time.”

“Imagine being good at being posh. I’m a certified workaholic.” Draco responded.

“Don’t remind me. Listen, I’m swamped with work so do me a favor and have your lesson be paired with dinner okay? I’ll be coming straight there, and I think Hermione might kill me if I have crisps for dinner again.”

“Remind me to ask what a crisp is later. But sure Potter, I’ll make sure we start with dinner and then get to lessons. I’ll tell Pansy if you inform Granger.” 

“You’re a lifesaver Malfoy, thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Add it to the board Potter.”

******************

Hermione was wildly nervous. A dance lesson for Harry where Hermione was little more than a moving prop was one thing. However, a quiet dinner at Malfoy Manor was something else entirely. Draco didn’t live there anymore, so Hermione had hoped she would be able to go her entire life without setting foot in the manor again. 

Draco had told her to arrive at 7. They would take dinner in the Greenhouses as Narcissa was renovating the large and small dining rooms. A small elf with a white bow in her hair directed Hermione to the correct location, avoiding the various construction projects that were going on in the home.

Hermione was gripping the gloves she was holding as she made her way down the hall. Pansy had gifted her dresses to wear for the subsequent Wednesdays, and today Hermione had donned a pale blue dress with cap sleeves and buttons all the way down the front. It nipped in at the waist, and while Hermione enjoyed that aspect of the dress in her room, it felt too constricting as she currently walked. 

The young house-elf moved to ask her something, but the sudden noise startled Hermione and she jolted and accidentally threw her glove into the nearby room. 

Quickly running into the room, Hermione picked up her glove only to freeze when she saw where she was.

Hermione would recognize that marbling anywhere. The gold trim was beautiful, intricate, and she had spent hours on her knees in that room. The Malfoy Manor drawing-room was often the setting for many of her nightmares, and it had gone through a few alterations. 

The room was a mess, every piece of furniture was destroyed, every drapery shredded. There was a huge dark spot on the floor where Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been. However, what was most striking was the chandelier. It was mostly ashes, the only thing remaining was the chain that would’ve held it to the ceiling. 

“Hermione!” She heard someone say, but it felt far away as if she was underwater. 

“Hermione!” She heard the voice again and blinked her eyes open, realizing that she had closed them.

“Hermione!” Draco shouted at her and Hermione realized she was on the ground. Draco was right in front of her, holding her shoulders.

“Malfoy? What, what happened?” Hermione asked as she gained awareness of her surroundings. How long had she been there? 

“My elf had been calling your name for ages. She ran to go get me and I found you here. I’m so sorry Hermione, you were never supposed to see this room. I told her to take the garden paths, but I think she was worried about the rainstorm coming tonight.” Draco pulled her into his arms and his warmth brought a shiver to her body. She felt so cold.

“It looks a mess in here. What happened?” She asked, looking up at him.

“The chandelier was my mother. The day she was sentenced to house arrest and her husband and son received prison. The floor was mine, the day I was released. The furniture is from just about everyone who needs to destroy a bit of ugliness from the war. I have a few pieces set aside for you. Potter already set his ottoman on fire.” Draco chuckled, and Hermione frowned in confusion.

“His ottoman?”

“The war was horrid to so many people. Sometimes it’s healthy to destroy something, lest it destroy you. The first was Goyle. It was the one year anniversary of Crabbe’s death and we just—we let go. Theo came shortly after. Blaise, Pansy, Neville, Luna all have let out some of their pain. Once the room was getting close to destruction I started setting aside some pieces for people. People this room owed. I showed Potter his ottoman the day he made me his partner and took me off of probation, permanently. Do you want to use yours today?” Draco asked as he looked at her with tenderness. 

“Can I see it?” Hermione cursed under her breath at how shaky her voice sounded. 

Draco stood and offered his hand for Hermione to take. Standing, Hermione followed him into a corner and watched as Draco removed several layers of concealment charms. 

There was a chair. It was made of a dark wood with navy cushions. It was elegant and well crafted. “Why this chair?” She asked, looking up at him.

“She sat in it. Whenever we were in this room, my aunt always chose this chair.” Draco answered without looking at her. 

“What was Harry’s ottoman?” She asked, looking at the chair with interest.

“Nagini’s. My mother took out anything the Dark Lord touched as soon as she was home. She was stuck alone with so much darkness, the only thing she could do was redecorate.” He sighed deeply.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s doing better and she was given a curfew this past spring, so it’s been nice to see her able to do things like visit friends and go shopping. My cousin is cute too, so she babysits on occasion.” 

“Your cousin? Oh, Teddy.” Hermione answered herself. She had forgotten that Andromeda was Draco’s aunt. Harry and Draco’s life were so heavily entwined, even in moments that were seemingly separate from one another. 

“Well, do you want to use it or save it for a rainy day?” Draco asked while pointing at the chair.

“I think I’ll save it. This room is still a bit overwhelming.” Hermione replied and Draco returned the charms before walking her out of the room and quickly down the hall.

****************

When they made it to the greenhouses, Hermione was surprised to see Blaise and Luna there laughing and chatting about something. They were standing next to Neville and Theo, the two playing a game of wizard’s chess at an end table in the corner of the greenhouse. Pansy smiled up at them when they arrived and stood up from her spot at the dinner table.

“Not bad Granger, I guess now we’re just waiting on the guest of dishonor. I’m not looking forward to this.” Pansy winked at her while she appraised Hermione’s dress.

“Granger, how on earth do you deal with him? I swear I’ve never met such a sloppy man. Savior of the world couldn’t find his way out of a table setting.” Blaise roared and Hermione shook her head at the man’s sense of humor.

“To be fair, it is an awful lot of spoons. There would be quite a lot of silver to deal with.” Luna added softly and Hermione was shocked that Blaise seemed to get Luna’s joke.

“Luna,” Hermione said, walking closer to the Ravenclaw. “It’s been too long. What brings you to Harry’s dance class?”

“Oh that’s my fault _libricino,_ Draco was making it all couple-y and Lovegood is my standard emergency plus one.” Blaise winked at her and pulled Luna close to him.

“How do you two know each other?” Hermione asked Luna.

“Draco introduced us. After he was released, Draco apologized to my father and asked if he wanted to be reinstated to the family. Obviously, he declined, but we still get invited to the Malfoy events.” Luna answered flippantly. 

“Reinstated into…” Hermione questioned and Draco answered for Luna.

“Luna and I are distant cousins, I think it’s what 3rd cousins once or twice removed. My grandfather didn’t like who Lovegood married and excommunicated them. Obviously that was stupid, so I changed that. I still saw Luna in France over the summers but I’m surprised it wasn’t more well known at school.” Draco shrugged and offered Hermione a seat at the glass dinner table. 

The group all sat and sipped wine while they waited for Harry to arrive. Rushing through the doors, Harry ran in, looking disheveled. “Draco, there’s a—” Harry started with a huff, before seeing Luna. 

"Luna, thank god you’re here. Can you get me into the Rowena Ravenclaw Bookclub to interview some people?” 

“I can try Harry. I’m still on probation as a member though. Why do you need it?”

“Because there’s been another attack, Cho Chang is in critical condition.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update but you've had a few earlier ones so don't be too angry. ^^


	20. Almost, but Not Quite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one by the pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’m late but I brought gifts! The Pinterest board is live and I love love love the work I put into it^^.
> 
> https://pin.it/2SawKpD
> 
> As always thanks to missELY.

”Potter, you know I'm suspended.” Draco said, moving through the halls of St. Mungo’s to where Cho was housed. Draco had told everyone to continue dinner and if they couldn't be back within an hour he would Floo call. The best thing for them to do was to act like everything was normal. Luna couldn't get them into the club any earlier than tomorrow anyway, and that seemed like pushing it, if Draco thought about it. 

Draco adjusted his wand holster and took a deep breath, putting on the persona of serious Auror on a case. Harry cast a Muffliato spell and answered Draco as they turned various corridors and walked down long hallways. 

”This has a clearance so high that less than 6 people in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement know about this case. Killing people with money and influence is bad enough. Add on a rare poison that causes almost instant death, and you don't want this getting out to the press until we have a viable suspect, if not the killer already in custody.”

”Speaking of, Potter. This is a rather odd addition to our killer’s hit list. You said Chang was in critical condition. She should be dead. Also, not to bash on your first girlfriend, but the most notable thing about the Chang family is that Cho is the first person of our generation to be a permanent member of a social club. The family is middle class. They've only been in England since the 1940s. That's practically brand new in the eyes of the wizarding world. You sure this isn't some terrible coincidence?” Draco asked as Harry waved his wand to allow them clearance into the ICU. 

”Her labs got in just as I was leaving work. Cho is good friends with Healer Patil, and she got the results expedited. It's the Indicdum Shimmer, just a diluted version. It's not as deadly, like the person rushed making it, or did a sloppy job. However, the ratios are identical to the perfume bottle and the Nimbus girl. As you and the tech are the only ones who have seen the lab results, I’m thankful both of you have a current alibi for the murder.”

”What’s Jenkins’?”

”My wife says he's high up in their fan club. They hosted an open practice to high ranking members and he was there. Their practice was at the time of the attack.”

”The perfume could have been contaminated at any time, why are we ruling people out because of a timeline?” Draco asked as they entered the last room on the right, presumably Cho’s room. 

Draco held up his hand before hearing Harry’s reply. Her face was splashed with purple splotches like a Muggle pen had burst on her face. Taking a longer look, Draco noticed the pattern of the splotches made it look like it had been thrown at her. It was clear Harry could pinpoint the time because Cho was attacked personally.

”So we hope she wakes up and that she saw her attacker.” Draco murmured. moving to look at her chart at the bottom of her bed. 

”Don’t hold your breath, Malfoy. Without an antidote to the poison, I can keep her alive, but just barely. You working on that Potter?” Healer Patil came in stiff with crossed arms. Draco cursed under his breath that certain spells, like the _Muffliato_ that Harry had cast in the hallway, were washed clean by the disinfectant doorway charm. 

”Healer Patil, I'm working on a source who can get us the Chinese strand of the plant, as well as copies of an antidote they use. It just needs translation and proper harvesting.” Harry answered with a measured tone. 

Theo and Neville. The two must have been up for hours every night working on that in Theo’s greenhouses. Draco didn't know Mandarin, and much to his mother's chagrin, he was shite at herbology. Harry must be keeping his sources secret so people wouldn't chastise him for using so many civilians, qualified as they may have been.

”Well, fucking hurry. I've got Nimbus threatening to buy St. Mungo’s outright, or pay for a wing in my honor, depending on the day,” said either Padma or Pavarti. Draco never had bothered to learn to tell them apart.

”Wait, Phoenix Nimbus is dead, why is the family hounding you?” Harry asked with a frown. 

"Wife needs to prove there was no foul play for her to get alimony in the divorce. This was the final straw for the couple.” Healer Patil responded while rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

"Keep us in the loop then. We’ll work on getting you this antidote as soon as we can.” Draco informed the Healer, and then turned to leave the room, pulling Harry with him. 

"So Nimbus is getting divorced from that pretty young thing. I wonder which side filed? Potter, look that up. Depending on how that card fell, we may have a link between our sources.” 

"Is this something old and posh you know about, but I don't?” Harry rolled his eyes as the two walked back to the Floos. 

”And French Potter, very French.” Draco chuckled. 

***************

Hermione was pacing around the greenhouses, looking for something, anything to distract her. Poor Cho. She was a nice girl. She didn't deserve such tragedy. Hermione knew it was uncouth not to sit down and drink her tea, but she was far too anxious. Moving to step out of the room, and to attempt to find a door with outside access, Hermione ran into Narcissa Malfoy. 

"Oh! Lady Malfoy. I'm terribly sorry. I was just looking...”

Hermione trailed off when she realized how silly she would sound saying she didn't know how to get outside in a greenhouse. 

”You must be looking for the pond entrance. I know the gardens can be so confusing, and it is difficult for first-time visitors. I'll show you. It's just down the hall.” Narcissa smirked and started leading Hermione down a hallway. 

”Lady Malfoy, I wanted to thank you for lending me your necklace. It means a lot to me to know that you would approve of me wearing it.” Hermione smiled and placed a hand on the silver necklace. She hadn't taken it off since Draco gave it to her. The necklace was beautifully intricate and it being filled with Malfoy magic gave a weight to it. 

”Your safety is important, my dear. I wore that necklace every day from the time Draco was 15 until the Dark Lord passed. I wish I could've given it to Draco, but it can't be worn by someone born a Malfoy.” Narcissa smiled and opened a door for Hermione, leading them on to a stone path between a menagerie of flowers. 

”Draco said it was sitting in the vault. I don't want to impose.” Hermione uttered after Narcissa gave her that bit of information. 

”It was. I don't need it nearly as much as you do, my dear. If Draco deems you a target for whatever this—attacker—has planned, then we owe it to you to keep you safe.” She walked down the path gracefully, the sun had recently gone down and the gardens were bathed in a warm orange from the sunset. 

”We?” Hermione frowned. 

”I feared Mister Nott was exaggerating when he said it was a double-blind case. No matter, just know that spending time with my sister has—warmed me to the idea. If Draco makes a decision, I won't stop him.” They came to a large pond at the base of a hill. There was an apple tree sat at its base and Hermione could practically see a young Draco playing here as a boy. 

”It is such a lovely night. I believe you're right Miss Granger, bringing dinner to the pond is the right choice.” Narcissa smirked and called over an elf named Donor to make plans, leaving Hermione alone by the pond. 

”I swear these people aren't speaking English.” Hermione sighed, sitting down on a wooden swing that was placed under a large branch, relaxing in the warmth of the heatwave England was having. Was Narcissa of the opinion that she and Draco were dating? Wasn't she fond of Nova? What did she mean ‘if Draco makes a decision?’ The questions Lady Malfoy raised only added to the many Hermione already had and left her swimming. Hearing footsteps approaching, Hermione turned her head to see a smirking Draco. 

”My dinner location not good enough for you, Granger? First, you give one of my elves a heart attack, then you make the rest of them bring dinner out to the gardens.” Draco grinned at her and moved behind her to give her a gentle push on the swing. 

”I, by way of your mother, brought dinner outside. How’s Cho?” She asked looking up at him but not questioning why he continued to push her on the swing. 

”She’s stable, but won't get any better without a cure. I trust Theo and Neville’s efforts. Nott Sr. was a real herbology nut, so as much as Theo hates the subject, he's very good with rare plants. Though, the Nott greenhouses focus on poisonous and nocturnal plants.” 

Draco seemed far away as he answered her question. Hermione placed a hand on his to stop him from pushing her again. 

”What's on your mind Draco?” 

He laughed breathily and leaned closer. ”Merlin Hermione, what isn't? I'm suspended, despite Potter’s blatant refusal to act like it. I could get fired if I get caught being on this case. This attacker is probably one of my uncles, or if not, is attacking way too close to home for my liking. My father is calling on me to start courting a proper witch, and I chewed out Nova for kissing me and a photographer catching us. I don't know if I'm angrier that we got caught, or that she kissed me at all. The press is always hounding me, and I just wish a moment of it was true.” He sighed and moved to slouch against her. 

Hermione placed a hand against his cheek; the warmth Draco emitted was so comforting to her. ”What do you want them to say?” She whispered, looking up at silver eyes. She got lost in his gaze. 

”What or who would I want them to talk about Granger?” Draco purred. Leaning into her touch. 

Was that an invitation to kiss him? It was sunset and they were alone. Perhaps tonight was the moment. Hermione leaned up to reach his lips and slowly closed her eyes, inching closer and closer to him. 

”Hermione! A girl after my own heart, wanting dinner in the gardens. Although Neville may want to share you, as he is practically the patron deity of eating outside.” She squeaked and nearly toppled backwards as Theo’s voice came down the path. 

Draco quickly kissed her wrist before stepping away from her. He walked up to meet Theo, grinning as the other man held two mint juleps in his hands. The wizard version of the drink was made with pixie rum, and was deliciously refreshing. 

Hermione saw a floating round table come up above them and settle itself in the center of the pond. Draco tapped his wand In a pattern on a large stone near the water, and a dock appeared, surrounding the table. Eight chairs flew out from under the table cloth and grew from palm-sized to the appropriate ones as they arranged themselves in a circle. 

”Wonderful idea, Hermione, truly. Lady Narcissa herself couldn't have had such a brilliant idea.” Blaise smiled at her before taking Luna’s arm and escorting her down the shining white dock. 

Harry gingerly offered his arm to Pansy, relaxing considerably when the woman gave him a nod of approval. Theo and Neville bowed to one another before walking side by side as equals. 

”Let’s eat Granger, we could all use a good meal.” Draco said without looking at her. Hermione's heart sank at how wrong she was. He hadn’t been inviting her to kiss him. She was such an idiot. Taking his arm she bit her lip to keep from crying. She wouldn't do this. She made a mistake, but Draco didn't seem angry. He would still be her friend, and she would apologize when the time was right. She let him push her chair in and thanked him with a silent nod as he took his seat to her right. 

With a sparkle, the starter course of summer squash soup appeared in front of them along with water glasses and some sort of white wine. 

”Granger. Clear your schedule. You, along with Potter’s future wife, are joining me for afternoon Tea at the Morgana Tea Society on Saturday. I haven't been in a while, but Abbott is a probationary member and she found the note about the quality of members. I've already added your names to the guestlist for Saturday; bringing you and Weasley should be enough to bring on another note, or maybe even an attack.” 

Before Hermione could reply that she was free, Draco answered. 

”Absolutely not Pansy. Are you trying to get all three of you killed? Neither you, nor Granger, nor the Weaslette have had formal Auror training. Have you even practiced defensive spells since we graduated Hogwarts?”

”Draco, please this is—” Harry tried to explain to Draco, but the blond wouldn't let him finish. 

”No, you can let your girlfriend go into harm's way all you want, but I care about the women in my life and want them to stay alive and not be in a coma, or dead.” Draco hissed. Hermione placed a hand on his. 

”I'm going. Draco, I know you're worried, but have faith in my and Pansy’s skills. Ginny is probably one of the best hexers I know. There isn't a charm Pansy can't cast, and you and I will have words if you doubt my ability as a witch. Be close by if you're worried. Give us a time limit if you're that pressed, but we all want this case over with soon. Pansy’s idea is good. Let's do it.” 

Hermione turned towards the group and resumed eating her soup, the conversation over. 

”Theo and I are pretty close to having a viable extract for the potion. Maybe by Saturday we’ll have the concentration down.” Neville spoke to the table, trying to get some good news in. 

”Good, also since we’re all here, hold out your hands. This group is getting too large, so I'm going to need an oath to ensure that this stays a secret. The cover story is that I'm having lessons to prepare take on the role of Lord Black. Ginny is pureblood and wants to finally join society, and Hermione’s the Golden Girl. No case, no danger, no one spills the beans.” Harry informed the group while pulling out his wand. 

The group nodded and all put out their right hands in the center of the table. Harry said the incantation and a green rope tied itself around the group.

”It’s like another Dumbledore’s Army.” Neville chuckled and moved his hand to hold Theo’s. 

Hermione looked over and wondered exactly when the two had made up. Hermione expected them to break up, but maybe while they were working on the case they had to stay together. Every time she spent more than ten minutes with Draco, she seemed to learn another new thing about wizarding society or wizard family history. 

"Don't remind me of that shite club. I had to be on the other end of that thing, dealing with being Umbridge's lackeys. Circe, I hated that woman." Draco rolled his eyes and the table unanimously groaned in agreement.

"Wait, you were part of the Inquisitorial Squad. We thought you loved her." Harry teased.

"Potter, you say that like we had a choice in the matter. She chose the top dozen or so Slytherins and gave us the _honor_ of being a part of it. I liked practical magic. My best subjects were potions and Arithmancy, do you think I wanted to judge students for practicing magic? I didn't like you. That doesn't mean all of Slytherin didn't hate her just as much as the Gryffindors." Draco informed.

Pansy and Theo shared a horrified look, and Pansy added to Draco's statement. "She wasn't kind to the way Slytherins view sex and relationships. Being a Slytherin usually meant it was okay to be LGBT, not as much as Hufflepuff, but _definitely_ more than Gryffindor."

Hermione added another new thing to her list of things she had no idea about. Apparently, it was perfectly fine to explore your sexuality in the dungeons. Hermione hadn’t been one for the boy crazy nature of the girls in her dorms, but she did remember quite a few insensitive jokes the boys made.

"I probably would've come out sooner if I were in another house. Funny how the house people called evil valued sticking up for your friends and exploring your sexuality without prejudice." Neville shrugged before taking a sip of his wine. 

Hermione knew that a part of the problem was just a child's mindset of everything being good versus evil. Yet, there were still people like Ron that firmly believed in the old statement that all Gryffindor's were good, brave, noble, people, and that all Slytherins were evil, cowardly, manipulative ones. 

***************

The rest of the dinner went well, and the group separated to adjourn for the night and for lessons. Harry was a decent dancer at best, and at worst he stepped on her toes to the point Hermione wanted to ice them. Draco was distant and seemed distracted. He wouldn't look at Hermione, and when Pansy took a turn as Harry's partner, Draco would just stand and watch. 

When the lesson was over, Hermione and Harry walked off together to head back to number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was quiet during the walk, but spoke up when they reached the living room.

"Aright, what happened between you and Draco? You both kept looking at each other when the other wasn't watching, and Draco was stiff around you. I didn't know that man knew how to be stiff." Harry raised an eyebrow as he kicked off his shoes and harness. 

"Nothing happened Harry." Hermione stuttered and Harry glanced at her. He rolled his eyes and moved towards the kitchen, gesturing her to follow him with a wave of his head.

"You're such a shite liar Hermione, now spill." He grinned and grabbed a beer from the fridge, offering her one, which she declined.

"Okay, okay, I tried to kiss him."

"Fucking finally, then what happened?" Harry chuckled, opening the bottle and hopping on the counter to sit.

"Well I heard Theo and jumped back, so nothing happened really. Wait, what do you mean finally?”

"Merlin Hermione, you’re too smart to act this dumb." Harry groaned, bringing a hand to his face in frustration. 


	21. Something I Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they go to jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always missELY. We're getting to the end now guys, can you see where this is going? Gimme your thoughts!

"Merlin Hermione, you’re too smart to act this dumb." Harry chastised, bringing a hand to his face in frustration.

“Dumb? What on Earth are you talking about?” Hermione questioned as she put the kettle on for a cup of tea before bed. 

“When a bloke is trying to be a gentleman—and Malfoy could sell very expensive books on how to be one—it’s easier to close everything off in hopes that we don’t come off like a creep. You made Draco Malfoy, the king of cool-headedness, completely stiff and shocked.” Harry chuckled, grabbing a hairband from a bowl that was on the counter and tying his hair back.

“Harry honestly, you’re stealing my hair ties now? When are you gonna get your hair cut?” Hermione chastised him. The kettle whirred and she grabbed some chamomile tea bags from a cupboard.

“Don’t change the subject.” Harry rolled his eyes as he successfully pulled the top of his hair into a tiny ponytail.

“You and Draco are falling all over each other. Like Ron and Lavender back in 5th year bad. Both of you are coming up with every excuse not to be together, and at this point, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who wants you two to just shag out your minuscule differences.” 

Hermione stopped pouring the boiling water into her mug. She couldn’t believe Harry would talk to her so bluntly. Setting the mug down on the counter roughly, Hermione turned to Harry with a frown on her face.

“Harry! How dare you try and talk to me like that? Have you forgotten it is Draco Malfoy we are talking about? He bullied us for years. His parents hate people like me. He looks down on people because of money, status, the house they were sorted into. You say that me wanting to sort through those issues before I enter a relationship is minuscule?!” Hermione huffed before turning to face him fully. 

“You’re in a long term relationship with Ginerva Weasley. She is the sister of your best friend, she has always been a supporter of everything you do, and she is a successful Quidditch star. What issues did you have to overcome dating Ginny? Maybe Ron yelling at you in case you two broke up? Molly being disappointed in you for a year before making you a sweater the very next Christmas? You two are so intertwined that people call her your wife, including you!” Hermione was screeching in his face towards the end, though Harry hadn’t broken from his calm facade. 

“Are you done ‘Mione? I hope you feel great trying to diminish my anxiety over losing the only family I have in the fear that Ginny and I break up. Yeah, Ginny and I are great now, but it took some hard conversations, including one where I talked about how much I value feeling a part of the Weasley family, and how terrified I would be of not only hurt her but hurting Ron, Fred, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and even Percy. You want to talk about your past with Malfoy, let’s talk. Tell me he hasn’t apologized to you, tell me he hasn’t because he’s apologized to me and I know that was much harder for him to do.”

When Hermione didn’t respond, Harry smirked and continued. “Narcissa Malfoy let you wear that necklace. She obviously doesn’t hate you, and yeah maybe she doesn’t want you to be her daughter-in-law, but you two haven’t gone on a first date yet. Let’s crawl before you run, Granger. Your parents are decently well off too. Ron frequently complained that you would act all posh and at times acted exactly as upper society wizarding families would. You don’t have Malfoy money no, but most people don’t. Remember his best friends growing up, Crabbe and Goyle? Those two were regular blokes. I know, because Goyle now works in private security for wizards.” Harry hopped off the counter and patted her shoulder before walking out of the kitchen.

Before Harry left the room he turned his head towards her, “His current friends adore you. You’ve been invited to his house, to his parties. He’s let you in his world and he’s made every effort to make you belong. Give him a call and just, use your heart not your head for once.” Harry shook his head and walked down the hall to head to bed. 

Hermione was left alone in the kitchen, feeling sore from the harsh truths Harry had given her. Harry wasn’t often that biting to her, but she knew he always did it out of love. Hermione wanted Draco. The way her heart raced every time she saw him proved that. However, how heart-stopping he made her feel probably added to the problem. It caused her brain to fry, and she either thought about the same issues they have had since the summer started, or her brain shut off completely. 

Maybe the universe would give her a sign? Hermione wasn’t a fan of divination but at this point, she would accept anything in the name of clarity.

****************

Draco lounged on a couch in his living room, Thursday morning, scowling. He had called in sick so Pansy wouldn’t expect him. Groaning in frustration Draco threw the parchment on the coffee table and rubbed his eyes. His father had written back with his findings, and Draco was attempting to decode whatever he had written. By this point in the morning, Draco was positive that he had memorized the letter. 

Wrapping his arm over his head Draco recited his father’s message.

_“Draco,_

_I have been pleased with your continued owls. Hopefully, with your additional free time away from the ministry, you will have an opportunity to see who your true allies are._ In short, the ministry is still full of corrupt dogs. Though, from Avela’s conversation with me at the Greengrass Party, they don’t listen to her. What did he say next?” 

Draco sighed deeply before continuing.

_Young Mister Potter is quite the accomplished Auror. Although, are you sure he is still the best partner for you when you return?_ If anyone else were to read this they would just think my father shared my dislike of Potter. However, this may mean that Harry is being undermined. Perhaps a coup, but from where? No wait he told me.” Draco sat up looking at the letter again.

“ _Congratulations in advance on your, Mr. Nott, and Mr. Longbottom’s induction to the Merlin Yacht Club next week. Tell Cabonbere to open my bottle of 1890 Ogdens. I know you’ll continue to make me proud.”_ Draco read again. Draco hadn’t received a letter of acceptance yet, which meant someone on the inside got a letter of the new member initiations. Lucius was often vague, but never to this point. Whoever was working on this had ties to the ministry and deep ones. Running to his study, Draco pulled his cellphone from it’s charging port and fumbled with the buttons until he found the contact labeled ‘Theo’.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered on the other end of the line after a few rings.

“Nott, remind me after I tell you this that you are the biggest cock block in England and I will never let you forget it. However, at the moment I have some updates from my father. Is Neville with you?” Draco questioned sitting down in his chair.

“Yeah, just gimme a second.” Theo murmured through a yawn. There was some shuffling to be heard before Draco could hear a rough sounding Neville.

“Malfoy what’s the crack?” 

Checking the time, Draco groaned and replied. “I don’t want to know what deplorable shite you two got up to last night for _you_ to still be in bed at 10:30.” 

Neville chuckled while the shuffling continued in the background. “Shut up Malfoy. You start complaining about my sex life I’ll start telling you about it, in detail. I’m not afraid. My Slytherin boyfriend taught me how to threaten people”

“Fair enough, I have no intention of obliviating myself in the near future. You boys get cleaned up. I’ve got an order from father to get some lunch at the Merlin Yacht Club today.” Draco hung up and sketched out an owl to the Yacht club to prepare his table. Draco had nearly sent off his letter with Cheron when he got an idea. 

“Father told me to think about my friendship with Potter, maybe I should flaunt that and see what happens?” Draco went to owl Potter and added the letter to Cheron’s other talon. 

*****************

Hermione was sighing through the legal jargon of elf contracts for the Yaxley family. Hermione didn’t have a law degree and very few knew how to deal with the complexities of elf/wizard relations, so it was a lot of research and guessing how to best revise the contracts so the elves were treated fairly and humanely. Biting the cap of her pen until it was a mere nub, she heard a knock on the door. 

Hannah Abbot came in with a smile on her face. “Hermione, come up to the holding cell. You’re gonna want to see this.” 

Hermione walked with her to the lifts and up to the DMLE floor. The main bullpen was wild, with people running along everywhere. Heading towards the holding cell she saw Harry filling out an arrest report. 

Turning towards her Harry frowned at Hannah. “You are some kind of sadist bringing her here, Abbot. I should have you on graveyard shift for a month for that.”

“Consider it payment for that trick you pulled on me with Parkinson, Potter. I’ll leave Granger to you.” Hannah smirked and moved past the group to the offices of the junior Aurors. 

“So, mind telling me what’s so funny about me being at the holding cell?” Hermione chuckled until she saw the three men in the cell. Draco and Neville were spotting serious bruises that could have only been made with a hex or a punch enhanced with magic. Neville had done something to hurt his hand, as it was being iced, and Theo was seemingly unharmed but curled up on the bench looking at the floor.

Neville noticed her first and grinned. “Hermione, lovely to see you here. Can you owl my gran and tell her I’m going to be late for tea? If you could not tell her I’m in jail, that would be great too.” 

Neville looked positively giddy, despite his predicament. Draco seemed unphased, and Theo looked devastated. 

Hermione shook her hand before placing her hands firmly on her hips. “Do any of you wanna bother telling me what happened to you three?” 

Harry sighed and looked up at her. “It all started at lunch. Which was great. We were underneath the Thames and the fish of the day was this mouthwatering salmon. Malfoy brought out this crazy old bottle of Ogdens his father had saved there when another table started just talking about us.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair before continuing.

“It was harmless at first. If we were man enough to be drinking a bottle like that. Malfoy was quick as a snitch responding that no one at that table had fought in the war. That maybe we should be questioning if they were man enough to drink whiskey?” Hermione heard a snicker come from the cell but didn’t turn around fast enough to see who it was.

“Then it got ugly. They started on Malfoy and what side he was on, I was trying to defend him, but then they started talking about Nott. I won’t—I won’t repeat what they said, but it wasn’t something you say about people. Malfoy shot up first but Neville threw the first hex. Nott’s not even being charged, but he’s not doing ok. I thought it’d be better if he was with Draco and Neville.” 

“So, what are you gonna do?” Hermione questioned, looking at the ball of navy blue that was Theo.

“I’m gonna do my best to throw my weight around and try and make sure an Auror and a Hogwarts Professor don’t get charged with assault. Draco and Neville can even counter with suing for a hate crime, as the folks were making statements about homosexuality and Draco’s past. Anyway, I’m going to be home late, and you’re going to have to write that letter to Neville’s gran. I probably won’t get them out before morning.” Harry gave her a shrug and Hermione turned away. 

“Granger, tell my mother I’m ok while you’re at it.” Hermione heard Draco say and she turned to see him wink at her.

“I don’t want her to worry when she hears that her son’s been arrested.” Draco smiled at her before returning his focus to the wall.

Nodding back at the both of them, Hermione shuffled back to her office to talk to the matriarchs of two of the oldest families in England. 

*******************

It was 4:55 in the morning. Draco had been sitting and waiting for Harry to return at 7:00 to release them when they were suddenly let go by someone in the Department of Mysteries. A huge portion of Draco’s mind wanted to focus on exactly who had ordered their release, but his face hurt, he needed a shower, and Theo could use a bit of TLC. The trio stumbled into Draco’s townhome and he watched as Theo shuffled into Draco’s guest bathroom and locked the door.

Neville waved his wand over his hand and sighed as the healing spell did its work. “So Draco, you mind telling which one of those awful things those wankers said about Theo Nott Sr. actually did?”

“He’ll kill me for telling you this, but if he stays quiet like this much longer I won’t give a damn.” Draco bit his lip as he removed his dinner jacket, taking out the leftover Ogdens bottle. He set it down on the kitchen table with a curious clunk before continuing. 

“Summer after Theo turned 14, he didn’t go to the World Cup. He went to a conversion camp in Russia. Theo has never told me what happened, but he couldn’t look me in the eye after, and he has scars between his fingers if you look close enough.” 

“I know that camp. Well, I’ve heard of it. It’s a terrible mix of dark magic, enchantments, and good old fashioned torture. My great grandfather was a psychiatric healer and had a case from a boy who suffered a lot of mental issues from it. I thought it had closed down?” Neville questioned with gritted teeth.

“It did, officially. Dark clubs often go through periods of becoming invitation only, and there wasn’t a dark society in Europe Nott Sr. couldn’t get an invitation to.” Draco answered while lifting and setting the bottle back down repeatedly.

“I hate that man. Have you read the letters he sends? Theo says it doesn’t phase him, but come on, that’s got to be a lie. It’s the only family he has.”

“That’s not true,” Draco interjected. “My mother obtained guardianship of Theo when Nott Sr. was imprisoned. It didn’t negate Nott Sr.’s parentage, but it did make him a legal ward of the Malfoy family. Theo isn’t alone, not as long as there is a Malfoy alive.” Draco smirked and patted Neville on his back. 

“Go comfort him, call for Mippy if you need anything. Theo has clothes here, and you can borrow some of mine.” Draco said to Neville.

Draco looked at the bottom of the Ogden’s bottle. Something had caught his eye as he had taken it out of his jacket. There was an engraving of the Malfoy crest on the bottom. Once he was sure Neville had left, Draco embedded the bottle with his magic. The bottle had a false bottom, it popped open and what fell out was a small vile and a memory.

Draco’s eyes were wide, and he quickly floo’d to the Manor study to use his family’s pensive. Shuffling in, Draco warded the door tightly before pouring the memory in the basin and diving in.

_Ironically enough, Draco found himself standing in the same room, but he was looking at his father freshly graduated from Hogwarts along with his grandfather Abraxas and Nott Sr. The three were laughing and getting on. The smile on his father’s face was one Draco hadn’t seen in years._

_“Lucius, my boy, I’m proud of you. The first of your class to be initiated, and at Merlin no less.” Abraxas put a firm hand on Lucius’ shoulder while Nott Sr. raised a glass._

_“I’m always happy to have a Slytherin take the prize of something first. Not to mention you have successfully bid the favor of Narcissa Black. Gives me hope for my search for a third wife, and maybe an heir of my own so I have more than just my godson to be proud of.” Nott Sr. laughed before seeing Abraxas’ strange look._

_“Lucius, why don’t you invite Narcissa over for dinner? I’m sure she desires to celebrate your success with us.” Abraxas phrased the statement like a question but Draco knew there was no questioning him._

_Lucius left the room but immediately cast several disillusion charms, as well as a few hearing enhancement ones. Draco’s father was always proficient in charms, so much so that Draco heard about it non stop from Flitwick during school._

_Abraxas spoke first. “Theodore, you’re still on the search? What happened to that French girl?”_

_“Turns out she isn’t a believer of our cause Abraxas.” Nott Sr. huffed._

_“Some kind of Muggle sympathizer or something. I won’t have the heir of the Nott line be raised by someone like that.”_

_“But didn’t you say you had already ensured you’d have an heir? That kind of potion is full proof.”_

_“She’ll get rid of it if she’s smart. Especially if she wants to get married to any reputable family. Besides, your Lucius accepted the Black bid. I think Penelope Gaunt would make a fine bride. Their family always produces at least one boy.”_

_“Penelope?” Abraxas gasped. “That girl is barely three years Lucius’ senior.”_

_“Abraxas, you think too little of me. A Nott is always the best looking wizard in the room.”_

Draco gasped out of the water and tried to process why his father wanted him to see this memory. Nott Sr. fathered a bastard child from a reputable French family. But, even being a royal wanker, Nott Sr. was right. The girl should’ve gotten rid of the babe before it was born. It's what was done in England to prevent all types of bastards. 

“Wait, French bastards. Fuck, I have to tell Theo.”

  
  
  
  
  



	22. The Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one when everything hit the fan.

Draco floo'd back to his place and sprinted towards the bathroom door. Irritated that it was still locked, he banged it in a rapid-fire pattern. 

“Theo, open up. You’ve got a count of ten before I come in. Put on a towel or whatever you need because this shite _cannot_ wait.”

Draco, realizing he was being the exact type of annoying that would make him deck a guy the Muggle way, stopped knocking and took a deep breath.

Counting back from ten slowly, Draco gradually released his clenched fist. Opening the door, Draco smiled at the sight of a still very wet but covered Neville and Theo. By the sight of his posture, Theo seemed marginally more put together, but his green eyes still carried an uncontrolled darkness in them. Today would be a day Theo would have to occlude or he would have to become a recluse for several days/weeks/months, and Draco didn’t know if the group had the luxury of the latter. 

“Malfoy, what the fuck is so important that it couldn’t wait another two minutes for me to put on my pants?” Neville asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s about Theo, mate I’m sorry but I think you should—“ Draco started before Theo interrupted while putting on his glasses. 

“Whatever you have to say to me Neville, is free to hear,” Theo spoke without looking at Draco.

Without his shirt on, Draco could see the paper cut thin scars trailing along Theo’s body. The silvery purple sheen to them was the telltale sign of curse scars, Draco had a few of his own but these were intricate, layered. The scars adorned Theo’s body like Spanish lace. Quickly moving his gaze to Theo’s unmarked face, Draco scowled.

“Theo, I’m not sure if you want him to be here for this first, it’s—“

“Going to be my decision Draco. Tell me and Neville what it is you found out.” Theo said facing Draco fully, a serious look on his face.

“My father got back to me. He gave me a memory related to the case. I don’t quite know how it relates to everything, but I think you have an older brother in France.” Draco explained and the other two men went wide-eyed.

“A brother, how are you—?” Theo stuttered out, leaning against the counter.

“My father listened in on a conversation between my grandfather and your father. He was courting a French girl before he met your mother, but the woman wasn’t willing to support the Dark Lord.” Draco sighed and ran a set of fingers through his hair. 

”He gave her the potion of Damara or something similar, but canceled the engagement. My father specifically told me to get this bottle in his letter, so something has to be related to Nott Sr. and that engagement. I know you hate doing this, and if it wasn't related to a murder trial I wouldn't ask you this, but you need to see your father on Saturday.” Draco spoke evenly. 

Neville immediately pushed Theo further away from Draco, glaring at him. ”Malfoy, are you out of your mind? He doesn't even write to the bastard, let alone see the man.” 

”Neville, poppet, it’s fine. We’re very close to our cure, and if my father is behind this in any way then we need to get to the bottom of this. I'm his heir regardless of whatever claim this Frenchman would have.” Theo shrugged 

”By the goddess— no Nott, he could take your spot if your father allows it. My mother still legally has you as her ward. You are rumored to be homosexual and have no public interest in continuing the Nott line. French bastards can claim titles. If they can make the case where the current heir is unfit or unsuitable to the role, you can be completely cut out.” Draco groaned turning back to the entrance. 

”You have one day to prepare. I have a hunch, though I hate to use that blasted term, that we don't have much time before the killer strikes again.” Turning his head back towards them, Draco added. 

“Neville. I need you on potion extraction.”

”Malfoy, we’ve extracted it. Theo has done some simple diagnostics and it is pretty similar to a compound to the vampiric syndrome. We would need vampire blood to test it, but that takes weeks to get.” Neville sighed, slipping his dress shirt back on. 

”Don’t worry. I think I may have a vampire access point.” Draco said while leaning against the door frame. 

”Drabek? That drama queen? There's no way you're going to get her to give you some of her blood. “ Theo scoffed and went to grab the spare set of clothes Mippy must have dropped off for Theo.

”I’m not going to be the one to ask her Nott.” Draco smirked but his face then fell into a strained expression. 

”Who will you ask Draco?” Neville questioned once he was dressed again. 

”One of the best enchantresses I know.”

*******************************

Draco was fucking tired. He hadn’t slept since the night before, and his days hadn’t been the most stress-free. Draco was still on the clock at Parkinson's and he was acting like he never stopped working full time at the ministry. The fatigue was settling into a restlessness that made him want to squirm. Sitting in Petunia Avery’s lower parlor while he waited for Nova to become ‘presentable’ wasn’t helping.

She was making him wait. She knew Draco hated waiting. In truth, he wasn’t surprised, especially in the way he had reacted to their kiss. Storming out of the restaurant, leaving her to deal with the press and the canceled orders. Ignoring her floo calls and countless owls. Draco was sure she got the message. In retrospect, he probably should’ve been a bit more level headed towards her, but he was angry and didn’t want to be pressed into any kind of public match. 

So now he waited for her to appear and tried to stay still in his seat. 

“You’ve got a whole lotta nerve coming over here after that stunt you pulled.” 

Draco turned to look at her and cursed himself internally. She was a vision. Presentable was a farce of a word because she was barely wearing any clothes. A sheer kimono in white was loosely tied around her waist. It was draped over a beige corset and perfectly accented her hourglass figure. Her long tresses were still a little wet, and Draco could smell a certain scent coming from them. _Cinnamon apples._

It was then Draco knew he would be hard-pressed to get any favors from her. 

She had remembered he liked sheer fabric on women. She remembered how much he was fascinated by the way a corset made a woman look and walk. She remembered how much he loved cinnamon apples, and dammit if he wasn’t fucking hungry at this moment. However, it wasn’t Nova he wanted to taste. Strangely enough, it was Granger’s tan skin he imagined glimpsing behind sheer sleeves. It was Granger’s dainty waist he saw in front of him and his hands itched to hold it in his arms. It was Granger’s curls that he wanted to smell like his favorite dessert. Draco wondered if he could get Theo to convince her to change shampoos so he had all the more excuse to bury his hands in and just _inhale_ all that she was. 

Clenching his jaw and remembering that he wasn’t actually looking at Hermione Granger Draco stood up and bowed to greet the Avery heiress.

“Nova, I’m sorry. I was rude, abrasive, and out of line. I never once gave you the impression I wasn't intending on us getting back together when you returned, and I shouldn’t expect you to arrive back here and know that.”

The response seemed to shake the woman’s composure, but she quickly went back to her posed position against the door frame. “Well, no one ever said Draco Malfoy was stupid. That doesn’t change that you made me look like a fool. You called me out of the blue and asked if I would come back. You escorted me to parties as your date. You restarted my connection with your mother, and then left me to be the one to tell her we haven’t actually been dating and I don’t know where we stand.” Her frown turned into a pout and Draco could see how much he had hurt her.

“You made me look like the other woman in the eyes of every witch in London, Draco. My whole persona is America’s sweetheart. You very well might have begun and ended my entire British career.” Draco walked closer to her but was stopped with her raising a simple hand.

“Tell me who she is. You’re never this cruel on your own.”

“She doesn’t exist. At least not yet. You are perfect Nova. Our past together was great. Our families are the same type of people. We can be so in sync with one another, it’s like we share a mind. If we started a public relationship there would be no option but perfection. We would be expected to be England’s perfect power couple. England’s perfect love story. We’d have the perfect wedding in exactly a year and you’d pop out one perfect son that I would pray would have my eyes and your hair.” Draco rolled his eyes before continuing. 

“Losing the war opened up an actual future for me Nova, something of my choosing. Dating you would have closed that up again, permanently.” Sighing, Draco tried to walk closer to her again, this time with success.

“It’s a cliche I know but honestly, it’s not you Nova, it’s me.” 

Nova stared at him for a beat after Draco finished. Biting her lip in consideration before sighing in some sort of defeat.

“It’s not fucking worth it to be mad at you, Draco. You were my friend first, and you never wanted to be that perfect little Malfoy, no matter how much you wanted to please your parents. So, what kinda favor do you need from me?” She finished with a smile on her face.

“Favor? Nova, while I never—“

“Don’t bullshit me Draco, we would just exhaust each other. You hate my grandma’s house. You always said the decor gave you a headache. If you wanted to just apologize, you’d take me to the lake. If you wanted to get back together you’d take me shopping. You came to me, what do you need?” Nova raised an eyebrow and Draco laughed at her accuracy.

“I can’t decide whether I’m pissed you remember my methods from school, or be impressed at my ability to win you over at such a young age.” Draco chuckled while stuffing his hands into his pockets, hoping it made him look nonchalant. 

”I need you to convince Victoria Drabek to give me a couple of vials of her blood.”

Nova blinked at him a few times before uttering out, ”You want me to convince the vampire princess to do what? Somebody better be dying Draco. She's the poster child for prima donna pop stars.” 

”People have died Nova, I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need a guaranteed yes. Please tell me you'll work your magic.” 

Closing her eyes, the black woman took a deep inhale before opening them up again in resignation. ”Fine, Saturday, but it's the last favor you're ever going to ask me for Draco, are we clear?” 

”Crystal.”

******************

Saturday came around and Draco was more than a bit of a wreck. Nova instructed him to meet her at Parkinson's at the exact time Hermione was set to be at the Morgana Tea Society with Pansy. Draco would've liked to have been close by, rather than sitting on his arse in London while they could be in danger all the way in Wales. 

Draco was also frequently checking the tracking stone he had placed on Avela Lestrange. It would notify him whenever she left the country and was a useful little trick he learned in the Auror Academy. Clenching his jaw, Draco checked his watch for the tenth time that hour. 

”Today is going to suck in the highest of categories. I just know it.”

************

Hermione was adjusting the silk collar of the dress Pansy put her in for the day. It was a sheer dress shirt underneath a strapless tea-length dress. It was a beautiful shade of lilac, and the intricate detailing of the vines and flowers gave off the impression that Hermione was demure, polite, and definitely not going to break decades of tradition by having tea there. 

”I feel like a cupcake.” Hermione groaned in the mirror and moved a curl from behind her ear. Ginny had tied most of it back into a low ponytail, but order was never a word Hermione could use to describe her hair. 

”Well, you look like a very pretty cupcake.” Ginny winked and adjusted the gloves she wore. The redhead was in a slim-fitting pencil skirt and an off the shoulder blouse that floated along her décolletage as if it were a cloud. 

”I take offense to that Granger. I dressed you, and nothing I make is anywhere adjacent to a cupcake. The word you're looking for is ethereal, and if you wanna wear tighter skirts, learn how to walk in higher heels.” Pansy rolled her eyes and showed off the six-inch stilettos she wore under her pantsuit. 

”Not likely. I don't know how you deal with it.” Hermione shook her head and laughed. 

”Having Draco be my escort to every function requires me to at minimum be a head shorter than him. I learned how to walk in six-inch heels. You're going to have to learn too, at least for pictures.” Pansy expressed, as if Draco was already taking her to events. 

Before Hermione could reply, their floo alarm rang and the trio was transported to the secret restaurant fashioned in some sort of garden. 

Hermione felt like she was in Alice Through the Looking Glass. They had charmed the chairs to look like flower petals and the tables were intricately woven trees. The servers were all pixies of various breeds, and the women were all dressed in the latest fashions. It was as if Carroll had a collaboration with Galliano. 

”Ah, Madame Parkinson. Right, this way. We have been expecting you and your... guests.” The bubbly hostess commented, but the way she looked Hermione and Ginny up and down made Hermione feel less than welcome. 

”Pay her no mind, Granger, the chick couldn't get a table here if she paid a year's salary.” Pansy winked at her and sat comfortably on the petal of an oversized tulip. 

Looking around, Hermione tried to see if she noticed anything suspect, but as they had no details on what their killer looked like, it was a bit fruitless. 

Taking a step to walk past a beautiful grandfather clock, currently chiming 2:00, Hermione crossed paths with a pretty brunette with stunning green eyes. They looked so familiar that Hermione had to turn to see if she recognized the girl from somewhere. The woman was spraying some sort of perfume but missed, and the spray hit Hermione instead. 

The next moments felt like slow motion. The Medusa’s gaze she wore glowed a bright green and the woman’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Quickly running towards the floo, Hermione could hear Pansy run after her. Hermione could only hear because she had lost the ability to see. Time slowed to a standstill, and the last thing Hermione could think of was she felt warmth and then an ice-cold shock.

**********

Draco was pacing through his office at Parkinson. ”She’s fucking late. It's 1:45 and it'll take me forever to get clearance to floo to Wales. I swear to Salazar, if I missed Pansy’s meeting for nothing.” 

He paused as his phone rang and saw it was Theo calling. 

”Mate what's the update?”

”My father is an arse. But this time a rather Slytherin one. He told me everything Draco, and it's deep. It cost me and I'm gonna pay for it in spades later on, but you need to hear this Draco. My father knows everything, every fucking thing. Where are you?” Theo was rushed and excited and angry as he spoke, switching between tones of voice like a snitch in the air. 

”I’m at Parkinson's waiting for Nova to bring me Drabek’s blood sample. Come over here and tell—” Draco started before seeing the green flash of a floo and Nova along with Harry walking through it. 

”There you bloody well are Nova. I told you this was bloody important, what took you so long, and why is Potter with you?” Draco hissed at the both of them. 

”Unrelated thing to why you sent her, but I needed a source on French tabloids and she was at the same PR firm. I caught her leaving and offered to join her in meeting me.” Harry shrugged and raised an eyebrow at Draco’s continued pacing, the phone still up to his ear.

”Well, what did you find out— No not you Nott, you get your ass over here so I can ward the room. Something tells me the fewer people that hear your story, the better.— Nova, please tell me you did not come back empty-handed.” 

”I was successful. But it was pricey. Prima bitch traded it for a free cameo in her next music video. Do you know how much I charge for those? You owe me a million Draco.” Nova rolled her eyes as she handed him a small vial filled with a glowing red liquid. 

”Yeah yeah I know it. Thanks, Nova you've been a life sav—” Draco paused as he felt his family magic being pulled. That only happeneds when someone was attacking the Manor or was attacking... 

”Hermione!” Draco shouted, just as Harry’s phone began to ring. 

The Chosen One picked it up and Draco felt sick as he watched the color drain from Harry’s face. 

”Malfoy, ” Harry gulped out as the flash of the floo flared again and Theo and Neville popped into the office. 

”They’ve been attacked. Hermione's been hit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks missELY! I’m ready to see where we finish this. Less than 5 chapters to go I may even finish it by Hermione’s birthday Then again I did always plan on Draco going back to work in September lol ^^


	23. The Importance of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where things start to make sense

Draco was livid. He was attempting to channel his anger into something productive. But every time a healer wasn’t overwhelmingly concerned with Hermione’s condition, or someone in their group wasn’t visibly overwhelmed with anger or grief, Draco wanted to snap at them like a king cobra. 

Pansy was stopped short in her attempt to catch Hermione’s attacker as the woman floo’d without a call point. If someone didn’t actually shout out their location, there was no telling where they went. Not to mention, they could easily keep flooing until they were somewhere familiar. 

Pansy and Ginny had floo’d to St. Mungo’s, and that was when Ginny called Harry. Theo and Neville immediately went to Nott Manor to work on the cure, while Harry and Draco followed the girls to St. Mungos.

Draco only got a glimpse of Hermione before she was put into a private room. He caught the emerald green glow of the necklace, and he could feel the pull of his families’ magic. His mother and father could probably feel it and it was a small miracle that they weren’t contesting the pull. 

Perhaps his father was more fond of Hermione than he led on? Draco worried over how much longer his father would put up with the leech on the Malfoy family magic. He worried over Nova being late and making him miss the meeting. He worried over why the girls went to the tea society in the first place, and with all that on his mind he wasn’t able to completely hold in his anger.

The current subject of Draco’s anger was Harry. The Head Auror allowed people to go into an area that had been explicitly threatened. He wasn’t there when they visited, and Draco was more than a little furious that Harry allowed them to go at all.

“Malfoy.” 

“Malfoy.” 

‘Malfoy!” Harry shouted at Draco and Draco turned his attention from the hole he was trying to glare into Harry’s chest.

“What Potter?” Draco hissed.

“They’re ready for you to see her. I lied and said you’re working with me on the case, so don’t take long and try not to bite anyone’s head off.” Harry said, motioning to Hermione’s room.

“See her, you mean—“ Draco started, feeling a lump in the base of his throat.

“She’s not dead. The healers were quick to keep her in stasis, but they said the necklace weakened the poison. She won’t wake up without the antidote, like Cho, but she’s not gone. The necklace saved her life.” Harry assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

A part of Draco knew that dead people didn’t need other people’s magic. However, to hear the confirmation took a small weight off of his chest. 

When Draco walked into the room he took in a sharp breath. She looked fine. The necklace’s eyes were still glowing—showing its activated state—but she wasn’t pale, she wasn’t sickly. She had a few purple droplets on her neck but the dress must have taken the majority of the hit. Walking towards her he cast a Mufflato and a Notice-Me-Not charm so that anyone who happened to interrupt them wouldn’t bother them.

Sitting in the chair that was located at the side of her bed, Draco grasped her hand in his.

“I don’t know if you can hear me Granger, but if you can, know that I’m mad at you. You just had to be a bloody Gryffindor and run headfirst into danger. Weasley and Pansy are purebloods, they would’ve been allowed in the tea shop without alerting anyone. Does that hair of yours prevent your understanding of common sense?” He laughed bitterly before leaning over her bed.

“Nott and Longbottom are working on getting you back ok? Those two are nearly as swotty as you are, so if you just hold on, you’ll be back correcting me in no time.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and he took a shuddering breath to continue.

“You have to continue being stubborn a little longer okay? My mother fully expects to have you over for tea, and my father has already accused you of being my mistress. Or has given you the honor of becoming one. Either way, we haven’t nearly tortured him enough for that. Blaise will be livid if you’re not in Italy for his birthday at the end of the month, and Pansy is banking her entire career on your pretty little face so… just stay fighting, okay? My friends have become attached to you, I’ve become attached to you. We need you, Granger. If the Dark Lord couldn’t stop you, there’s no way we’re going to let some no-named bint do it, right?” Draco noticed the tears dripping down his face and hitting her hand.

“I’m sorry Granger, but if you just keep being the stubborn woman I know you to be, by the time you wake up everything will be alright. I’ll get your revenge for you, and I’ll make sure it’s to your standards.” He wiped his eyes and stood up, removing the charms on them.

“That bitch is dead, and anyone else who was behind this.” He spoke to himself as he adjusted his tie, standing straighter, and steeling his expression. 

*****************

Potion antidotes were an annoying bastard of a subject. No one really enjoyed making them, and Snape’s exams on the topic could make even the most proficient of students explode in frustration.

Theo, Neville, and Draco had been working for hours on something to reverse the effects of the Indictum Shimmer. Draco already not being in top form, as a portion of his magic was being filtered to keep Hermione alive. 

Theo groaned at the failure of another cauldron. They had a finite amount of vampire blood to use, and any failures made them have that much less.

“Mates, we’re running in circles. Let’s just take a moment and regroup.” Neville said, looking at the late hour and summoning an elf to bring them a very late dinner.

“You lot continue. I want to see if a different combination of bezoar and silver would be a bit more stable.” Draco murmured without looking at them.

“Draco, sit. You’re exhausted and you’ve been basically running flat out for two days straight. I have to tell you what my father told me anyway.” Theo sighed and moved to collapse on a nearby couch. 

While Draco wanted to continue working, he knew Theo’s information was vital. Taking one last look at the bubbling cauldron, Draco walked over to the sitting area and stood by the fireplace.

“Well?”

“You know how both of our fathers have bribed their way into getting access to the outside world? They have their schemes and their little favors to one another.” Theo started rubbing the bridge of his nose behind his glasses. 

“Well, my father’s main scheme was to arrange an untraceable messaging chain between _loved ones_. They would contact his solicitor, the wanker, and my father’s solicitor would send the letters to him. Which my father, who is in regular contact with his solicitor, would then arrange the appropriate correspondence, all under the guise of working on his personal trust. Something out of my jurisdiction, despite me trying to gain control over it.”

Draco stood still as Theo spoke, his arms crossed as he slowly became aware of the situation.

“So your father is how Avela and Rastaban contacted one another. What does that have to do with your possible sibling?” Draco questioned while crossing one foot over the other.

“Not super sure, but his solicitor lives at the French border of Switzerland. We have a huge portion of our family assets there.” Theo said, and Draco clenched his jaw at this tiny mystery.

“Draco, my father has a contact point with Rastaban Lestrange. My father is also extremely gifted at herbal poisons. I’m almost positive that my father gave him the potion ratios. We know the Lestrange brothers, they’re on the run. This poison takes nearly a week to brew. It’s incredibly finicky and easy to get wrong. They didn’t make it, but they had someone regularly available to make it for them.” Theo frowned and removed his glasses, placing them on a nearby coffee table.

“Your father is good, but not good enough to have an entire potions lab in his cell.” Draco scoffed.

“No, but he would have a good gauge of who would be skilled enough to make it and be sentimental to his cause.” Theo countered.

“So where does the girl come in?” Neville questioned from his spot at the other end of the couch. 

“Maybe she’s the contact?” Theo offered as he sat up.

“And maybe Nott Sr.’s monstrosity is hereditary after all.” Draco declared.

****************

It’s been three days. 

Three days and they were no closer to the cure or the culprit. Draco had written his father, asking him to do anything possible to stop Nott Sr. having contact with the outside world. To try not to reveal his desperation, Draco had framed it that it would be all too easy for the Malfoys to be accused of being involved, and that would not be good for their image at the moment.

Draco hadn’t seen Potter at all, and as they were supposed to be working together, he couldn’t ask the healers if they had seen The Boy Who Lived when he went to visit Hermione.

Cho had gotten weaker, and that only fueled the rumblings of fear he felt in the pit of his stomach. Draco was leaving Hermione’s room, having changed out the flowers next to her bedside to lilacs when he spotted Ginny.

“Weasley.” He called out, and holding in his shock at the hug he was immediately swept up in.

“Oh, Draco it’s been awful. Have you been in there? I hope she’s okay, not in pain in whatever state she’s in. I haven’t seen Harry since the attack. Everyone’s worried sick, and I’ve been at Parkinson’s just keeping Pansy company, poor dear.” The woman expressed and Draco realized she was hugging not to receive comfort, but to give comfort. She was hugging him because she thought he needed a hug.

Draco awkwardly patted the shorter woman’s back and thought back to the many times he had seen the three of them, or even the Weasleys, engaged in hugs. With the exception of certain traumatic events during the war—post-torture after his failure of killing Dumbledore, post-torture of his failure of killing Potter in the Manor, post-rejoice at the Dark Lord actually being gone—the last time Draco had hugged his mother was his first year at Hogwarts. Draco couldn’t even remember the last time he had hugged his father. 

Yet, here was this woman, whom Draco was nearly positive still hated him, giving him a hug. Draco dwelled on this a moment longer until he processed what she actually said. “Wait, you haven’t seen Potter since Saturday?”

“Yes, he said he had something about a case. I figured he would’ve told you. Something dropped on his desk from the Department of Mysteries. Super important and stuff. Harry says ever since they changed the Head Unspeakable everything has been so weird.” Ginny rambled on and Draco pulled her back to look at her squarely in the face.

“Weasley, do you know the name of the Head Unspeakable?” Was this what Lucius had meant when he said to watch his allies in the ministry?

“I’m not quite sure, Gant or Gaunt, or something like that.” Ginny shrugged, but that was enough for Draco to have a hunch of who it was. 

“Take care of Hermione, and the second you hear from Potter, call me,” Draco called out before heading back to the fireplaces.

*************

Draco’s timing was nearly prophetic as he walked into Theo’s drawing room and spied Edmund Gaunt drinking tea with Theo.

“Draco, hello. Have you met my uncle, Head Unspeakable Gaunt?” Theo attempted to say smoothly, but Draco could see the slight shake in Theo’s hand as he gestured out. 

Theo had never met his mother’s side of the family. The age gap made their marriage quite controversial. It was so heated that Penelope’s older brother Edmund, left England entirely, leaving his position as an Unspeakable in the ministry. The Gaunts were a noble family but small, and by the time Theo was born there was little family left alive, and even fewer that Nott Sr. deemed appropriate to associate with the heir of the Nott line.

Edmund Gaunt was a distinguished man with light blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. His easy and charismatic smile reminded Draco quite a lot of Theo.

“You released us from jail,” Draco stated rather than questioned.

“I saw your names on the holding cell list and read Head Auror Potter’s arrest report. If young Harry had a bit more time in the ministry I know he would’ve been able to do the same.” Edmund mused and continued sipping his tea.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked, feeling more than a little protective of Theo. 

“I thought I’d like to formally meet my nephew, and a seer who works for me told me you needed to talk to me. I’m afraid I can’t help you with your case involving Miss Granger, a terrible thing to have happened.” Edmund spoke between sips. His calm tone of voice rattled Draco and made him feel akin to a dog with its hackles up. 

“How do you even know about that? Potter put silences on all the press, and I paid quite a high sum to make sure it stayed that way.” Draco hissed and walked closer to the two.

“I’m sure the Unseen told him.” Theo nodded, his voice distant as if he wasn’t truly present in his body.

“The Unseen?” Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“The Unspeakable secret police. My Grandfather was Head Unspeakable you know. The Unseen would stop by my house to give things to my father, in loyalty to my grandfather.” Theo said and turned to Edmund who nodded in confirmation.

“Secret bloody—No wonder Potter hates your department. You’re trying to do his job without him being able to see it happen.” Draco said with a roll of his eyes.

“They were, Mr. Malfoy. I arrived and have spent the past three months cleaning out the trash, so to speak. They nearly had a coup planned before Shacklebolt had the forethought to call me in from Switzerland. I’m mostly done with my department, but Potter shouldn’t trust his at all. I gave him a piece of evidence that had been sitting on my desk since April. Something my predecessor should have immediately forwarded.” Edmund spoke in crisp tones. Draco stepped back a bit at the information given.

“Then tell me where Potter is. I have no reason to believe you aren’t one of the people who want to overthrow Potter and Shacklebolt. A double agent isn’t unheard of in either of our family trees.” Draco palmed his wand in his pocket.

“I gave him the location of Rastaban Lestrange’s turning point. It’s the call point of over a dozen floos and seems to be the intersection of all his hideouts. It’s in Austria, right at the Swiss border.” Edmund tossed a file to Draco and without missing a beat Draco caught it and read the coordinates.

“Theo, you got a portkey to Austria?” Draco asked and Theo perked up.

“Way ahead of you,” Theo smirked, calling out for an elf to summon Neville from the potions lab and to grab his Care of Magical Creatures Portkey. 

“Mr. Gaunt, our tea has been delightful. Unfortunately, I have other plans and I’m sure you are very well missed at the ministry. Please excuse me. Cider will show you out.” Theo said, shrugging on his jacket as a deep ebony-colored elf popped into the room. 

“Be careful boys. I’ll be in your corner when I can, but you best be wary of dark corners.” Edmund advised before slipping on his hat and leaving the room.

“So, how was that?” Draco asked, moving towards Theo as they spotted Neville holding a book in his hands.

“I have an uncle. I have an actual family member that isn’t an overt monster or a gravestone.” Theo chuckled. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Well, I’m assuming we’re here to drink some tea and kick some arse.” Neville grinned, kissing Theo’s temple as he handed off the book. 

“And we’ve already had tea,” Draco smirked and placed his hand on the book as well, feeling the familiar twitch and pull of a portkey.

********************

Being in a magical coma was odd. It’s like sitting in a bathtub of fog and you can kind of hear your upstairs neighbors. Hermione was stewing in her coma fog as she tried to think about the events that led up to her attack. She was hoping to be of some use to people when she awoke—whenever that was. There was some companionship in her coma bath. A green snake. 

The animal was probably six or so feet in length, but Hermione didn’t fear it, even though it was near. It didn’t speak but slithered around, and sometimes would rest its warm body over Hermione’s or allow Hermione to use it as a pillow. She was currently resting on the snake while contemplating the nature of her attacker, whom Hermione had dubbed the ‘Green Eyed Woman’.

_“Well, well, well. The little Mudblood isn’t dead. Leeching her magic off the Malfoy family, two-timing trollop.”_

“Well, this healer is rude.” Hermione thought to herself as she sat up, trying to focus on the distant sound coming from the edges of her mind.

_“I tried to warn the Morgana Tea Society. I wanted them to keep one place clean, pure. One place full of beautiful people with rich, influential husbands. But then I see you. The Golden Girl. You have nothing, no one. A Mudblood trollop, and yet here you are, gallivanting with the upper echelon of society. You should be dead, you know.”_ The voice laughed, and Hermione jumped up at the realization that it was a woman she was hearing.

_“I had nothing, but I could’ve had everything. I could’ve been Lady Nott. I could’ve been the future Lady Malfoy. Instead, I’m nothing, and my stupid mother didn’t even give me my father’s name. So here I am, all by myself as Amélie Laurent. The bastard child of an ostracized woman. All because my stupid mother thought that you Mudbloods deserved a place at the table._ ” The woman scoffed and Hermione could just barely feel her touching something. The snake hissed and curled itself around Hermione’s ankles.

_“No matter. I’ll do the Malfoys a favor and cut off the little parasite that is leeching their centuries-old family magic.”_ Hermione felt a blinding light, and the snake transformed into a gorgon by Hermione’s side, hissing and lashing out. 

Hermione felt a sharp pain one moment, but then next she was fine. Then she heard a sharp crash.

_“You’re not getting away from me again you bitch!”_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY. Also, I've loved seeing your faces here but come yell at me on discord! I've been known to share a few bonus moments or sneak previews lol.


	24. Blood is Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it all hits the fan.

They landed in a small, but elegant, boutique hotel in Vienna. 

“Nott, this is yours, isn’t it? I’d recognize those gaudy drapes anywhere.” Draco questioned, gesturing to the Venetian lace trim on all of the curtains, that just so happened to be in Theo’s favorite shade of gold.

“Keep talking Malfoy and I’ll start listing the houses you own. By country.” Theo rolled his eyes and Neville snickered under his breath.

“Longbottom, don’t start. I’ll tell Theo the price of your plants, or better, the price of your dog. Don’t act like you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth just like the rest of us.” Draco raised an eyebrow in warning and Neville quickly shut his mouth. 

“So how are we getting to Feldkirch from here?” Draco asked the team while looking for a wizard’s travel map in the concierge’s binder behind the check-in desk. 

“We could fly?” Neville offered. 

“On who’s broom? I left mine in England and if you think I’m  _ renting _ one, then you’ve gone daft.” Draco scoffed before returning to the brochure. 

“Gents, quit acting like ninnies. I’ve already called a carriage so sit tight and maybe grab a drink at the bar. You lot are trying me today, honestly.” Theo huffed and Draco immediately turned towards his friend, brochure forgotten. 

Not waiting for the other two, Theo walked down the hall, presumably into the hotel bar. Draco and Neville paused and looked at each other in confusion before quickly catching up to Theo. 

Perhaps this whole mess was affecting Theo more than Draco originally thought. If everything added up, then every part of the case had the name Nott involved. Nott Sr. very well may have been the creator of this particular poison and was at least the facilitator, ensuring its existence. Theo had a half-sister who could have been anyone from a mere contact point, to the maker of the poison, to the attacker herself. Theo’s uncle even had his hand in the pot as he released the three of them from their holding cell the other day.

Theo himself was just as entangled in it. If successful, his name would be on the cure for the poison. Draco wanted to make this case about him and Hermione, and Potter, but if it were to be told in the history books, the case would be littered with Theo’s family members on every side. 

Draco was pulled from his thoughts by a bartender sliding him a glass of Ogden’s Finest. Turning to see what the other two were drinking, Draco saw Neville leaning over Theo. The two were speaking in hushed whispers and Neville had the body language of muttering soft apologies. Not wanting to interrupt them, Draco pulled out his phone and attempted to call Harry, irritated that it said it had no service. 

“Stupid Muggle device that doesn’t work across country borders.”

Turning towards the bartender, Draco asked for some parchment and the use of an owl, pulling a Mont Blanc pen from his pocket. Potter had started to implement the use of Muggle pens in the Auror department, and it was incredibly efficient for jotting down notes during a case. Especially once Draco found a pen that suited his tastes. 

Sketching out a quick note to Pansy to keep an eye on Hermione while they were gone, Draco mulled over whether or not he should attempt to owl Harry at all. If he was anywhere close to Rastaban, then Harry was probably trying to stay covert. An unknown owl wouldn’t be the best practice. Setting down the pen and handing the bartender a single letter Draco grumbled at the lack of ways he could contact his partner.

“Malfoy. Theo said our carriage is here.” Neville called out to him with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Alright then.” Draco nodded and stood up. He looked in Neville’s eyes, trying to gauge how Theo was doing, making his question a bit more clear with a nod in Theo’s direction.

“He’s all mum about it. Your bloody guess is as good as mine.” Neville rolled his eyes and the trio walked out of the hotel and into a thestrals drawn carriage. 

The carriage itself was built with an effective disillusion charm in it, and while driverless, had a homing charm that allowed it to navigate to the location Theo had set, at the border. 

They were there in a matter of hours, and while Theo and Neville seemed to nod off from time to time, Draco felt nothing but nerves. How was Hermione doing? Where the fuck was Potter? Was Edmund Gaunt’s information a red herring? Or worse, was it just a trap they were walking right into? It all felt on the precipice of something, and it left Draco frayed. His family magic was also not stable, with Hermione’s pull on it, though it was a blessing from the goddess that she was handling it so well. The transfer of magic usually required at least a betrothal contract not to reject its receiver at least a little. 

Soon enough they had landed and were in front of a decidedly less posh inn at the border of Austria and Switzerland.

“Okay, we’ll set out after sunset,” Draco stated, glancing at his watch and noting that they had about enough time for a shower and maybe a bite to eat. 

“Wait, why are we waiting? Isn’t time of the essence here?” Neville asked while Theo silently walked them in and headed towards the check-in desk.

“I don’t want to take any chances, Longbottom, and the Nott family Night Shadow charm can’t be beaten—that is unless you have three invisibility cloaks in your back pocket.” Draco scoffed, and before Theo could run off again, Draco grabbed his arm and spoke in hushed whispers. 

“Spill, everything. Let it out. You haven’t worried me this much since eighth year.”

Theo looked at him and laughed, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh what I wouldn’t give to be that high again. You think I’m shutting out? Fuck off Malfoy, I’m trying to keep it together. I’ve not wanted a hit this bad since the first letter my father wrote to me after the war. I swear to  _ Merlin  _ I can taste your blend of Ambrosia on my tongue.” He stared at him and grinned, emerald irises dancing in mania before resting back into the mask Draco could recognize as Occlumency. 

“I’ll keep my promises. But I get the first curse. I hope it’s Rastaban, for all of our sakes. I don’t think I can handle this going on much longer.” Theo finished, patting Draco’s back before sauntering forward to hook his arm into Neville’s.

****************

It was 10 o’clock in the evening when Draco finally felt it dark enough to venture out. The summer nights were notoriously short this time of year. Glancing one more time at the coordinates Edmund had given them, they decided to apparate about a ten-minute walk away, in order to not arouse suspicion. 

With a nod, the trio waved their wands and disapparated out of the suite, Draco’s including that signature dark crack of a death eater.

The three arrived at an isolated building at the edge of the forest, Neville’s face having a confused look as he stared at Draco.

“Why do you still apparate like them? We all had to learn it properly from Flitwick eighth year.” 

“Because it’s a better mode of apparition,” Theo answered for him, brushing off the nonexistent dirt on his arm before continuing. “The black crack creates a hole in space and time for Draco to walk through. He can apparate longer distances, faster, and with less prep all with a much lower risk of splinching. I would do it as well under… other circumstances.” 

Satisfied with the answer, the three-headed into the forest and started looking for the call point Edmund had pointed out to them.

***********

They came upon a cabin in the center of the woods. It was small, maybe two or three rooms, and looked mostly abandoned. “Wait for my signal, I’ll scout it out first,” Draco whispered, motioning for the two to flank either side of the place while he would enter through the front door. He skulked around the front clearing of the cabin, ducking behind every bush and barrel to try and hide his presence. Waving a silent  _ Alohamora _ spell, Draco entered the cabin wordlessly.

It looked empty, at least the front entrance did. There were a few bits of parchment and some stale bread on a plate located on a coffee table, but there were still decently fresh ashes in the fireplace, so that meant Rastaban had an unregistered floo. Walking down into the kitchen, Draco tried to scan for any documents about the poison. Hearing a creak in the floorboards Draco spun around promptly before finding himself in front of Harry.

“Potter? Bloody hell, where have you been?” Draco pushed off Harry’s wand with the tip of his own, shrugging the charm that disguised his features to resemble that of a mere figure in the night.

“I’ve been tracking the Lestrange brothers. I got a tip from the Department of Mysteries about this place. I’ve been tracing his floo patterns and the contact letters I found in the cabin. I intercepted an owl from Rodolphus, and I think they’re going to meet here tonight.” Harry hissed and quickly pulled Draco into a corner of the room that couldn’t be seen from the outside.

“Tonight? You were going to go after both of the Lestrange brothers alone when absolutely no one knows where you are. Honestly, Potter, you’re getting far too old to be this dumb.” Draco shook his head before processing the rest of Harry’s statements. 

“Did you find anything about the poison? An antidote perhaps?” Draco asked, wincing at the desperation in his voice.

“Possibly, but everything that could possibly be about the potions is encrypted. Runes aren’t my strong suit, so I was going to bring these back to you to decipher when I caught the owl about the meeting.” 

There was a sigh that escaped Draco’s breath at Harry’s statement, more than a little hopeful that the answers they have been looking for were somewhere in his letters. Draco’s eyes widened at the sheen of green flames before Harry swept them under his invisibility cloak. 

The two crept the four steps it took to look into the living room and were suddenly face to face with not only Rastaban but Rodolphus Lestrange.

“Brother, it’s been some time. I saw you’ve been working diligently. The French girl is a little too active for my tastes.” Rodolphus rolled his eyes but greeted his brother who entered shortly after in a second flash.

“You know the Notts. They’re showboaters to the end. Nott couldn’t even make a subtle potion, old bastard had to give it a calling card. The bint tell you even with the antidote, the stain lasts for weeks?” Rastaban hissed scratching a purple spotted hand.

“Come off it. You never were too careful in potions. Or are you too distracted with little French girls on your cock?” Rodolphus grinned and looked around the room. Despite knowing the legitimacy of Potter’s cloak, Draco couldn’t help but stiffen at being looked at.

“She’s pure, and has a thing for older men anyway.” Rastaban snickered before walking into the kitchen and into the icebox.

“You want a pint?” Rastaban questioned, looking over his shoulder.

“Why not? I’m not setting out for Ukraine until tomorrow.” The other brother shrugged and walked into the kitchen as well, still scanning the room.

“Useless sellsword. You should be fighting the causes of the Dark Lord.” Rastaban rolled his eyes and handed Rodolphus a bottle, bending over to the box to grab a second. 

“I do the Dark Lord’s work by only eliminating those deemed unworthy in his eyes. Better than scaring birds in tea shops.” Rodolphus walked over to the kitchen table and dangerously close to Harry and Draco, he moved to pull out his chair and—shit, they would need to move back for the chair not to hit the two of them.

Trying to make the move as seamless as possible, the two looked at each other and stepped back at the same time. The first successful, the second, in time with Rodolophus pulling his chair back, was almost successful. Almost, because one of them hit a creaky board. Everything happened very fast after that.

Rastaban was immediately spewing curses in their direction, Harry having thrown the cloak away to counter leaving Rodolphus to duel with Draco.

“We meet again little nephew. Your Aunt Bella would’ve been proud to see how you’ve improved on your curse casting.” Rodolphus sneered while casting a silent curse Draco was able to block.

“I’d have been happier if that curse landed you in Azkaban. Or dead, you know, whichever I can get.” Draco rolled his eyes, casting as many wordless hexes as he knew.

“You know little dragonfly, there was one curse you could’ve hit me with that would’ve solved all your problems,” Rodolphus smirked before hissing out a Crucio and nearly missing Draco—managing to scrape his ear with searing pain.

“I’m not like you. I could never cast that curse to begin with, and I won’t start now.” Draco cast the next set of curses in rapid-fire. 

_ “Stupify, Bombarda, Deprimo, Incarcerous!”  _ The room was a flurry of colors as the four dueled with each other. Draco not only had to dodge Rodolphus’ spells but also stray ones from Harry and Rastaban. 

Draco was shot with a horrid bruising curse that left him wincing to breathe, but he got Rodolphus back with a blasting curse that rammed him into the cabinets. They were quickly demolishing the kitchen, and a stray blast or two had moved their fight into the much more open living room. 

One second he was blocking a nasty cutting curse from Rodolphus, the next he was tripping over his own feet having caught a hex Harry threw and Rastaban diverted. He felt time slow to a still as the words for the killing cure rang out around him. There was nothing he could do. Potter was in top form just staying afloat and Draco was in no position to defend the curse. It was April all over again, except this time Draco couldn’t counter it with a rage-induced  _ Crucio _ . He wasn’t going to be saved by a team of Aurors any minute now. Draco was going to die, and as he was the giver of Hermione’s necklace, so would she. 

Draco had fucked up a lot in the past but this was the last thing he wanted. Mentally apologizing for fucking up, Draco had just closed his eyes when he heard a loud _ Protego  _ in time with a _ Petrificus Totalus.  _ Neville and Theo must have heard the ruckus and come to help. 

Harry took a moment to look at the two of them and Rastaban took the freedom to hit Theo with a  _ Crucio _ . Theo’s screams were immediate, but before either Draco or Harry could react, Neville shot a  _ Confringo _ and blasted the man’s wand arm clean off. Just like that, it was over. Rodolpus could do no more than blink, and unless treated, Rastaban would bleed out in minutes. Years of searching. Teams of lost men. It was stupid, it was unbelievable. It felt like rain after a seven-year drought.

Once the Aurors of the group processed that the two were down, Harry quickly bound them in magical handcuffs while Draco cast  _ Bewitched Sleep  _ on them so they wouldn’t wake until they made it to their holding cell. Draco’s next task was to put a stasis charm on Rastaban’s arm so he wouldn’t bleed out before they got him to a healer.

Seeing Theo’s heavy breathing and remembering the feeling of that blasted curse, Draco quickly rushed to his friend. “You got this, you got this. Just breathe Theo. Your boyfriend is a bloody monster with a wand, so all you need to do now is fight this.” 

Draco was laughing, he was trying to keep things light but a direct hit from a  _ Crucio _ was nothing to sneeze over. It frayed nerve cells, it was like fire all over your body and hooks running through it. Looking into Theo’s eyes, Draco could see a sharpness in them. Like cut emerald staring back at him.

“I’m fine. Not the first time some bastard has  _ Crucio’d _ me, and it won’t be the last I fear.” Theo stood up before either of them thought he could and left the three of them to the floo. 

“We should get to St. Mungo’s. These two are worth more to us alive than dead, and we may even find a person to help you with those runes.” Harry responded stiffly while casting a  _ Levicorpus  _ to move Rastaban. Following in Potter’s lead, Draco levitated the incapacitated Rodolphus and the two set out for St. Mungo’s.

****************

They didn’t expect the chaos that had ensued with their arrival. Aurors were already on the scene, and Harry was quick to pass Rastaban off to Dean and Seamus to take to the holding cells in the ministry. 

“What on earth is happening here?” Harry questioned seeing the rapid-fire way healers and nurses were running around.

“Nasty duel going on in Granger’s room. It’s entirely warded and done well. We’ve had to call in a team to try and break it, but unless you’re already casting a wand in there you aren’t getting in.” Hannah Abbot shook her head, trying to organize the scene as best she could from the nurses’ station.

“Hermione?” Harry questioned before turning to see Draco runoff. “Draco! Bloody wait! You can’t get in.”

“Like Salazar, I can’t.” Draco spat as he ran down the hall and turned the corridor to get into Hermione’s room. Running through the warded wall, Draco felt a pull of resistance before his family magic pulled him through.

“Draco, Merlin fuck it’s about time.” Pansy hissed as she turned towards him before throwing another hex at the attacker. She was bleeding pretty heavily from her left arm, and Pansy was no duelist to begin with. Draco was proud she had lasted until he came.

“Well, well, well. We’ve finally had the pleasure.” A voice chuckled and Draco turned to see a stunning woman with golden brown hair and Theo’s green eyes. 

“I assure you,” Draco smirked, raising his wand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY. 
> 
> And thank you guys for being so kind to my week off. I needed it and now I'm ready to finish this. One more plot point chapter to go and one maybe two epilogues if I'm feeling up to it lol.
> 
> Catch me on tumblr at riane-b13 or on discord to yell at me.
> 
> If you're sad it's almost over don't be. I already have more fic in the works. ^^


	25. The Final Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where we wrap it all up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to missELY, and sorry for the delay.

_“Well, well, well. We’ve finally had the pleasure.” A voice chuckled and Draco turned to see a stunning woman with golden brown hair and Theo’s green eyes._

_“I assure you,” Draco smirked, raising his wand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”_

The woman was attractive, even as she breathed heavily. She had pouty lips and long eyelashes. Her jawline was more delicate than Theo’s, but the apples of her cheeks and the green of her eyes were a direct copy of his friend. 

Pansy was quick to place herself between Hermione and them, focusing her energy on protecting the sleeping woman. Draco held his wand ready to attack and spoke.

“Hand me the antidote and I’ll consider letting you live. You’ve killed some very important people, so I’m sure people wouldn’t mind if you just… didn’t make it.” Draco taunted her, casting a _Flippendo_ that sent Amelié flying in a wall.

Stepping closer to her, Draco kept a smile going and pointed his wand at her crouched form.

“Do you feel like corroborating _ma cherie_?” 

“Don’t speak French at me, Malfoy. I have no desire to play coy with the likes of blood traitors like you. To have a Malfoy family heirloom on the neck of a Mudblood.” She hissed, stepping closer to him.

“Why, what would your mother think?” Amelié sneered. 

“My mother gave this willingly.” Draco matched her movements, trying to keep himself between her and Hermione. “Don’t call her that name. You weren’t a part of the war. You don’t know just how shite that statement is.”

“Oh? I didn’t fight in the war? I grew up ostracized in my own community because my mother didn’t believe strongly enough in wizard’s rights. I could’ve been great. The female line of the Nott family. I may have even been your bride, kept you pure and away from the harlot ways of Muggles.” She sneered and cast some sort of stinging hex that Draco reflected.

“I choose my own path. I have nothing to say for the crimes of Nott Sr.. But you’ve killed people. You tried to kill Hermione, the blood is on your hands, your crime.”

“Would you even care about me if this little Mudblood wasn’t your whore?”

The woman spat at him and shot a hex not towards him, but Hermione. Draco screamed at her but ran towards Pansy who had cast _Protego_ to block the hex.

“Go! I’ve got Granger covered, don’t turn your back on the French bitch!” Pansy shouted, waving her arm to get him to turn around. 

Draco saw the flash of purple out of the corner of his eye and just barely managed to miss whatever curse the woman flung at him.

“Are you joking? You claim to know the Malfoy line. Let me show you why we are a revered family across Europe.” Draco roared and cast a rapid-fire series of spells her way. She was no Lestrange, and if Draco could best those dueling masters, then she stood no chance. 

The woman was good, but not to Draco’s level and a particular _Bombarda_ spell slammed her into the wall and unconsciousness. Draco walked towards her slowly, a wicked grin on his face.

“I hope you rot in Azkaban.” Draco sneered, looking for the antidote for the Indictum Shimmer and cursing when he found it. Her cloak pocket contained both, an orange sparkly liquid and the awful poison. The two were blended as they had cracked from her fall. 

With the spell caster out for the count, the ward on the room fell. The potion was in her presence so even if she wasn’t the creator of the poison she was proven to be an attacker. The Aurors in the room swarmed in and took a few looks at Malfoy, hesitant to know who to arrest.

“What are you waiting for? Arrest this woman for the attempted murder of Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger.” Draco rolled his eyes and stood up. He may have been suspended for another two weeks, but he still outranked most of the people in that room.

Jolting quickly, the junior Aurors rushed to handcuff and transport the woman to a holding cell. Once they were gone Draco walked back to the hospital bed where Hermione and Pansy were.

“You did good Pans.” Draco smiled, tracing a stray hair behind her ear before pulling her into his arms. “I’m proud of you.”

She gripped his shirt, punching him without much effort as she mumbled out. “Where were you? I was supposed to be babysitting Granger and getting free rein to tease her about her hair without her there to retort.” The punches stopped and Draco could feel her shudders as she started sobbing into his chest.

“I’m not a warrior. I’m not made for fighting.” 

“I know Pansy.” Draco soothed, running his fingers through her hair. “I owe you so much, and you were very brave. I’m proud of you. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” He assured her, kissing the top of her head before pulling her back and wiping her tears.

“You’re paying for my spa retreat, and any cosmetic potions I need if this scars.” She sneered pointing to the gash running down her arm. 

“And your wedding. I’m designing everything from Granger’s wedding dress to the color of your pocket square.”

“Wedding?” Draco wondered, looking down at her. “I’m not getting married to Granger, we haven’t even gone on a first date.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her so that she could gesture to the sleeping Hermione. 

“You just saved her life. Twice now. If this woman doesn’t marry you she is the stupidest woman I’ve ever met. Now does that sound like Hermione Granger?” Pansy rolled her eyes before standing up.

“I’m gonna go get checked out, and then I’m going to put you in charge of prepping for the launch on Saturday. I’ll be back for it but I expect you and Granger to be in attendance.” She smirked, looking over her shoulder in the doorway.

“I think you can handle that.”

***********

Hermione’s first thought was white. A pure white that felt all-encompassing. A purity that prevailed over every other sense. She fluttered her eyes open and her first sight was two curious brunettes. 

“There you are princess, easy now. You’ve been asleep for nearly a week.” The bigger brunette told her, and as her vision cleared she noticed the voice belonged to Neville. The second brunette was Theo, who was carefully rubbing some orange liquid on her neck. 

“Neville?” She choked out, her voice unbelievably dry. Neville was quick to run and grab her a glass of water, helping her lift her head so she could sip the drink. 

“Easy now. You’re okay. Draco is gonna be pissed he isn’t here to see you wake up but other than that everyone is fine.” Theo chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

“What happened?” She asked, more so at where Draco was then what happened to her.

“You were attacked, Hermione. Malfoy’s necklace kept you going. Theo and I were trying our hardest to find your cure, but it took a few tries.” Neville rubbed the back of his head in slight embarrassment. “Neither of us is as smart as you are.” Neville smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“Draco, where is he?” She questioned, hating how much energy it took her to do so much as move her head around.

“Oh, he’s been busier than a bagger Miss Granger. Mister Potter threw a huge fit and got Draco’s suspension lifted so he was in charge of the Lestrange case closing. Pansy is recuperating and will be back in a couple of days to launch the line. Draco will come raging in any minute now. He’s probably pissed we didn’t wait, but I wasn’t about to give him another false positive.” Theo laughed and Hermione’s brain ran wild at the amount of information she was given.

“What happened to Pansy? Harry and Draco caught the Lestrange brothers? Did one of them attack me?” Hermione asked rapid-fire. She attempted to sit up before immediately feeling light-headed.

“Easy, easy. A coma isn’t exactly something to walk off Hermione.” Neville gently pushed her back on the bed.

“Miss Granger, in due time you will learn everything, I promise. For now, let’s work on getting your pretty little face back into heath.” Theo smiled, kissing her forehead. 

When Theo lifted his head up Hermione saw him in the doorway. Standing shocked with a huge bouquet of daisies in his hand was Draco.

“She’s awake?” He questioned in disbelief as he slowly stepped closer to the bed. 

“Why didn’t you call?” Draco looked to Theo before throwing the bouquet at him.

“Relax Malfoy, she’s barely been up five minutes,” Neville responded for Theo, taking the bouquet from Theo and replacing the still-fresh flowers at Hermione’s bedside. 

“We’ll give you two some space,” Neville concluded, taking Theo’s hand and walking out the door with him.

“Hey.” Hermione started, staring at him awkwardly, unsure of what to say. 

“How-how are you feeling?” Draco asked, sitting on the bed next to her. 

“I’m a bit stiff but okay.” She nodded and turned to look at the bright yellow daisies. “These are pretty.”

“My mother thought you’d like them. She’s been looking over you too, keeping your hair in check. She says curls like yours are a full-time job.” Draco chuckled not looking at her but instead at the flowers.

“Curls?” Hermione queried and then it washed over her that she had been asleep for a week. “Oh, I must look a fright.”

“Au contraire.” Draco pulled open a drawer and a simple hand mirror from it, handing it to Hermione.

Hermione tried to lift it herself but struggled to even raise her arm. Not giving her the chance to ask, Draco held it up for her to look at herself. 

“My hair, it…” There were no words for the soft ringlets that covered her face. Her face was freshly washed, and rosy, as if someone had moisturized it as well. She looked better than if she had done a full face of makeup.

“Who?” Hermione wondered, looking at Draco.

“Swear not to tell a soul, but the Black family curls are unavoidable. My hair isn’t naturally straight and neither is my mothers. She prepared the proper potion for healthy curls and gave you a good deep condition the day after the attack. Theo has been moisturizing your face in Pansy’s absence. Both of them would put even my vanity to shame.” Draco shook his head before looking back at Hermione’s wide eyes. 

“You honestly can’t have expected us to let you not look your best, even in a coma, right Hermione?” Draco scoffed taking a few strands and putting it behind her hair. 

“Draco?”

“Yes, Granger?”

“I heard you,” Hermione whispered, grasping his hand that had lingered along her ear.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I heard you. I could hear things sometimes but the snake always seemed to focus on the outside world when you were around. I think it knew you gave me the necklace, so I would always be able to hear you when you spoke to me. Though, it wasn’t the loudest.” Hermione explained to him and she felt a change in the atmosphere.

“What did you hear?” Draco croaked out, his voice rough.

“What did you want me to hear?” Hermione probed, placing her hand in his.

“Granger, I, Hermione, I didn’t know if I would see you again. I was upset, and guilty, and I just wanted you safe, and happy, and—“

“I have feelings for you too,” She interrupted him. She giggled at the way his eyes went wide at her admission.

“You do?” 

“Mhm,” Hermione chuckled, nodding up at him.

“Then you won’t mind if I do this.” He murmured and pressed his lips to hers.

Kissing Draco was something she would spend years trying to define. He was soft, and firm; he tasted like apples, and smelled like paper. He kissed like it was his job, and he was very good at his job. 

Hermione pulled him closer, and Draco took that hint to straddle her on the bed and deepen the kiss to a level that took her breath away.

His tongue mapped the crevices of her mouth as if he was memorizing it for cataloging. His large hands were tangled in her hair, and if it wasn’t taking all of her energy to keep her head up and her hands gripping his shirt she would’ve held him so tightly he would have understood just how much she wanted this. How long she has wanted this. 

Eventually, her breath caught up with her, and she had to regretfully pull back. Not moving too far away, Draco stayed close, resting his forehead against hers.

“I love you. I know it’s fuck all early, and we haven’t even gone on a date but in the event one of us is near death again, I want you to know.” He smiled, and Hermione couldn’t help but grin in response, his joy contagious.

“I-I” Hermione tried to say but she was stopped by his kiss.

“Don’t, not until you’re sure. You have feelings for me, Granger, that’s enough. You’re mine and when the time comes I’m sure you’ll give me a soliloquy with the ways in which I make your heart flutter.”

“I promise you, you already make my heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings,” Hermione responded against his lips.

“Just wait till I ravage you, Granger. I may just give you a stroke.” He winked at her and pulled back. 

“I hate to leave you, but I’m going to go yell at the staff of St. Mungos for not checking up on their newly awake patient. You’ve got a lot of physical therapy to do if you’re going to be my date for the rest of the social season.” Draco smiled at her as he lifted himself off the bed. 

“Come back soon?” Hermione asked, feeling her lips as if savoring the moment.

“Oh, you’re gonna get sick of me Granger. Just you wait.”

********************

“You’re phenomenal.” Ginny grinned, looking at the very first catalog of Parkinson’s. 

Witch Weekly got a few exclusive photos, and according to Pansy, they had more orders than they could handle. Hermione’s smart-yet-sexy business suits were a hit among the under 35 demographic. 

“Oh, shut up. You look gorgeous Gin. All six pack and shiny hair.” Hermione teased, pointing to Ginny’s image of her hair flowing in the wind during a water break.

“Well either way, Pansy does great work. I wonder if I can get more than just my clothes for free?” Ginny chuckled. There was a knock on the door before Harry popped his head in.

“Mind if I come in ladies?” 

“Did you just ask permission to enter your own office?” Hermione questioned, rolling her eyes.

“Given the people currently in my office, yes. They’re ready to begin the press conference if you want to head down to the atrium.” Harry smiled and opened up the door.

Nodding, Hermione stood shakily, grabbing her cane—a present from Lucius she swore was cursed— and walked out into the bullpen.

******************

“Bravery in the face of adversity. These young men have shown us that they are more than their past. For some of them, rather than letting their past mistakes define them, they choose to rise above it.” Kingsley announced to the crowd of press that was eagerly snapping photos.

“Head Auror Potter was given a tough decision, and rather than making the easy choice, he continues to make the right ones. The ministry is happy to have him as Head Auror, and we hope he continues to lead the team into the light. 

“Neville Longbottom and Theodore Nott’s incredible ingenuity has not only saved one, but two lives. They created an incredible antidote that will ensure no one else will succumb to the terrible poison known as the Indictum Shimmer ever again.” Kingsley paused and nodded towards Draco, a smile on the Black man’s face.

“I only have one award to give out today. Something this man earned a long time ago, but never more so than now. When the ministry itself turned its back on a good man, a true wizard, and one of the best Aurors on the force, he didn’t give up the fight. With Auror Potter, this man has beaten every record of Death Eater captures. He stopped the Indictum Shimmer attacker, and was integral to the creation of this antidote.” 

Draco stood up and walked towards Kingsley as the Minister opened a case.

“It is my honor as Minister of Magic to present Draco Lucius Malfoy with an Order of Merlin, Second Class. It was long overdue my boy.” He finished and placed the medal on Draco, followed by a firm handshake. 

“I’m honored all the same.” Draco smiled and turned toward the cameras so that people could take better pictures of the moment. 

*******************

“Congratulations Malfoy, Welcome to the Order of Merlin Society.” Harry grinned, clinking a champagne flute to him. 

When Draco’s mother had insisted on throwing a party for his award he had been hesitant. However, seeing his friends gathered around the gardens was quite a comforting sight.

“Potter, this isn’t actually a society. Though this did get me a permanent bid into the Merlin Yacht Club. Father was very pleased with that.” Draco winked.

“Oh yeah, so that means you’re taking me on your yacht when?” Harry teased him and they walked towards their table as the bell for dinner was heard.

“I suppose I’ll invite you to my Hogwarts weekend. We all get on a train to the south of France and spend the weekend on my yacht sipping wine and sharing stories of school.” Draco rolled his eyes and kissed Hermione’s cheek.

“You look lovely today Hermione. Did my mother dress you?” Draco questioned as he sat next to her and across from Harry.

“Yes, and apparently that was against the rules.” Hermione laughed, playing with the sleeve of her dress. She didn’t often wear the color wine, or silk, but Draco’s complement did help settle her. Did you sell my body to Pansy while I was indisposed?” Hermione retorted but returned his kiss.

“It was in exchange for keeping you alive. You aren’t allowed to get dressed in the morning without her approval. It’s a small price to pay in my opinion.” Draco grinned at her and stole a look towards Pansy who was frowning quite severely at him.

“So I have to dress like one of you every day now?” She inquired holding his hand in his.

“Hermione, you’re one of us. We don’t let people in easily, and once in you aren’t allowed to leave. Besides,” he smirked, kissing her hand. 

“Clothes maketh the man, I think your appearance should show how amazing you really are.”

THE END 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guys we did it. I promised eventual smut so the next chapter is a self indulgent chapter of fun parties and clothes. However, for the purpose of this fic it's all over. 
> 
> I would really love a review of the fic if you will. The rotten tomatoes of Clothes over all. I’ve gotten such amazing responses from this and I've got new fics that will be coming so subscribe to me as an author if you want more witty banter and rich people problems.


	26. Epilogue: Before You Leave, Take One Thing Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all the people who asked for it.

Luxury was a concept Hermione had begun to redefine after being around Draco. He and his friends dressed in couture to sit around their living rooms, playing cards. They drank scotch old enough to buy itself a drink with Chinese takeout, courtesy of herself, or Harry. Pansy was not joking about her insistence in dressing Hermione, and the Gryffindor had started to hide her sweatpants in her Hogwarts trunk, lest they be swapped for yet another negligee. 

“Pansy, stop. I am not going anywhere further than the Muggle corner store or my living room. Harry doesn’t care if I’m dressed my best, he’s certainly seen me in worse.” Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy ransacked her closet and threw away the less desirable pieces. 

The group was set to pay Blaise a visit in Italy. He was ready to bring the first wine he harvested to market and had invited them all to his villa to taste the first bottles. 

“Harry isn’t staying with us. Ginny is busy in Milan and we’re all the way in Sardinia.” Pansy retorted. Hermione was wide-eyed as Pansy tossed in something that resembled dental floss and a triangle into her suitcase. 

“We’re just going to support Ginny in her game and Blaise has a bit of family money into that Italian team, what were they? Martian Moto Bello Donnas or whatever MMBD stands for.” Pansy continued, throwing multiple full-length gowns in Hermione’s suitcase for their week-long trip to the Italian coast. 

“Pansy, I need to pack something casual. Blaise’s family live on a vineyard. He told us he wanted to show us the grapes he planted during the war. I’m going to need things like trousers, and flats.” Hermione countered, looking for a sensible pair of chinos that Pansy had buried in the back of her wardrobe. 

“I swear, you wound me with your notion of flats. I assume you just mean a wedge, and I’ve already packed you those for when we go on our yacht day in the Med. Honestly, I need a bit of fresh air and some fresh caviar. It's truly been too long.” Pansy feigned fatigue and collapsed on Hermione’s clothing covered bed.

“Pansy, we were in France on the first of the month, eating caviar on Draco’s very expensive yacht.” Hermione rolled her eyes and threw a silver slip dress at the other woman.

“Like I said, far too long. Speaking of. Weren’t you the little cockblock in France?” Pansy snickered, throwing the garment back at her.

“Cockblock? When was I ever in the way of you— oh!” Hermione paused blushing vividly. “I had no idea Theo and Neville went for an afternoon romp. I just wanted to ask if they wanted to come with me to visit Versailles. Draco was of course overly posh about it, saying the Malfoy homestead was the original and Marie Antionette was nothing but a copycat.” Hermione rolled her eyes at the braggadocious way Draco had talked about where his great aunt lived. 

“No, though it’s only a matter of time before you walk in on those two. Theo is lucky he’s a man or he would’ve been pregnant twelve times over.” Pansy chuckled, grabbing a few linen blouses in the ever-growing suitcase. “I meant the way you blocked every attempt at Draco trying to get you in the sack.” 

“What on earth are you talking about Pansy? Draco was a perfect gentleman to me the entire trip. He gave me a separate room in France. He barely went anywhere with me, he kept suggesting we just stay at the resort. He even walked me to my room every night. The sweet man waited till I shut the door before…” Hermione’s tone was defensive until her brain caught up with her memory. “I’m practically the dumbest person I know.”

“There’s the Brightest Witch of Our Age. I don’t know how long the prudes in Gryffindor like to make their boyfriends wait, but I’m telling you now, don’t do it with Draco. You are wasting some glorious Sunday mornings my dear. Waking up with that blond between your legs is a feeling you will never turn down.” Pansy winked at her before tossing in some sort of lacy one-piece. 

“Can we establish that your sexual history with Draco is off-limits to talk about, forever?” Hermione asked, attempting to sort through her luggage and toss out what she wouldn’t wear. 

“Oh come on Granger just letting you know one of the biggest perks. Draco and I had a lot of problems, but sex was never one of them. You look wound tighter than a time turner most days and you could use a good hard shag. I’m sure it helps that your extremely fit boyfriend is ready and available to give one to you.”

“Well, aren’t you a crude young lady?” Hermione rolled her eyes and threw out as many pairs of heels as she could while Pansy was occupied with hats.

“My mother taught me well.” Pansy turned and then frowned at Hermione being caught red-handed taking out a pair of strappy ones. 

“You put those Zanottis back. This is Italy for Circe’s sake, show your ancestors some respect.” Pansy glared at her and Hermione slowly put back the shoes.

“Wouldn’t know Versace from a Volkswagen.” Pansy murmured, pushing Hermione aside and inspecting the suitcase.

“Touchy, touchy. Fine, your majesty, I’ll leave you to your dress up games.”

“That’s right, now be a doll and stay silent till I tell you what to say.”

*************

“Which part of the compound is your grandmother putting us in Blaise?” Theo asked. The boys were corralled in Theo’s living room waiting for the girls to get there. Luna was due to arrive any minute, but as Pansy was last seen at Harry and Hermione’s place, Hermione and Pansy could be here in ten minutes or two hours.

“Oh, Nonna put us in the west wing this time. She has moved permanently into the east wing as mother has taken over the main house. I think step-fortune number nine is Italian.” Blaise rolled his eyes while flipping through a Quidditch magazine. 

“Step-fortune?” Harry’s head shot up, adjusting his glasses. He wouldn’t be staying with them but would be sharing the international portkey Theo had crafted. It was set to drop them off in Rome, and Harry would simply take the much cheaper carriage ride up to Milan from there.

“I forget how new your entrance into our little gang is, Mr. Potter. Blaise’s mother is… _ unfortunately  _ cursed to become widowed. However, she, like myself is, a hopeless romantic, so she gets married quite often.” Theo sighed and collapsed dramatically on Neville’s neck. 

“In actually useful information Potter, Mirabella— bugger what is your mother’s name currently?—” Draco questioned and Blaise shrugged with disinterest. “Anyway, she’s a proper good lawyer and ensures she gets a sizable portion of the bloke’s fortune in the event of her husband’s untimely demise.” 

“Wow, your mother is…” Harry started before shutting his mouth. “Ninth time’s the charm right?” Harry laughed awkwardly and looked around the room.

Draco laughed loudly at that, causing the rest of the group to do the same. “Don’t sweat it, Potter. I doubt we’ll see anyone from Blaise’s family unless his cousin Gia is in town. They’re up north until Halloween, heading south for the winter and all that.” 

“Oh, okay.” Harry nodded and reached for whatever cocktail Neville had brought the group. 

“Blaise, what type of grapes did you plant anyway? Did you modify them at all or are they one breed?” Neville asked, running his fingers through Theo’s hair.

“No quizzing, Professor Longbottom. I need to be wine drunk and sunburnt before I deal with the plant talk.” Draco rolled his eyes and took a sip of the cocktail, surprised at the herby flavor of it,  _ was that basil? _

_ “ _ Fine, fine, Malfoy, I’ll wait until I’m in front of the vines before I start actually asking any questions about the reason we’re going to Italy in the first place.” Neville raised an eyebrow at Draco.

“We are here for wine and the Mediterranean, not grapes and planting.” Draco countered and lifted his glass in a pseudo toast. 

“Who’s planting?” Pansy asked, walking through the floo, waving her sun hat around. “I didn’t bring a single outfit that can get caught in the dirt. Not to mention that I spent far too long ensuring Granger doesn’t either.” 

“What do I not have?” Hermione asked, walking through the floo. Draco had to take a second look at what Pansy got her in.

In what had to have been a fight where both sides suffered losses, Pansy had gotten Hermione into a pair of bronze heels. However, Hermione clearly demanded to be in trousers and won that round. Yet, what had Draco gobsmacked was the white dress shirt Pansy had hexed to only being held together by three of the buttons. It gave Draco a beautiful view of Hermione’s gorgeous chest. A smile spread across his face as she attempted to button more of the buttons, only to be shocked in the process.

Draco stood up along with the rest of the men—Potter was finally learning—and walked towards Hermione. Kissing her on the cheek as he twisted a curl around his finger. “Hello darling, you look positively lovely. I hope there was no bloodshed between you and Pansy.” 

“Draco I’m going to kill her. I know she’s a dear friend of yours, but it’s my body and if I’m going on vacation, I’d rather not be uncomfortable. Is it really that important that I look like some… model?” She questioned, brows furrowed in that cute little way that made Draco roll over to whatever she wanted. 

“Hermione, you’re gorgeous in whatever you wear. Pansy has a unique relationship with boundaries, rather she doesn’t really see them. I’ll talk to her if it bothers you that much, but rest assured she only does it out of love.” 

Sighing, Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting considerably. “Fine, but if you don’t I will, and I am running out of polite ways to say ‘stop it, Pansy, I don’t want to wear that.’” 

Holding her chin in his hand Draco kissed her sweetly and smiled. “Don’t fret, princess. I’ll sort it out. For now, it’s time to relax, unwind, and get some nice Italian sun, eh?” 

“Fine Draco, fine. But honestly, talk to her.” 

“I got it, Granger, trust me.”

***********************

“I hate how nice this is.” Hermione groaned, looking at the rooms Blaise’s grandmother had given them. She was a rather sweet lady with beautiful curls. She didn’t speak English, but Hermione knew enough Italian to thank her for accommodating them. 

“I know, right. Blaise’s view is something I just can’t replicate. I used to love visiting him over the holidays at school. I’d steal a weekend with Theo, Crabbe, and Blaise at least once before school started again.” Draco winked, resting on the bed while Hermione looked out at the beautiful Italian coastline before her.

“So, remind me what the plan is today?” Hermione asked, pulling out her daily planner.

“We’re resting for a few hours, then Blaise is driving us up to the vineyards where we’re having dinner on the premise. Tomorrow we’re taking the yacht out and relaxing. Saturday is the game, so we’re going to see MMBD play the Harpies and I’m going to watch Potter and Blaise squirm at the opposite times; then Sunday is a free day. Blaise has to work, Pansy has plans in Milan, and Theo and Neville are going to Rome for a couple’s date. You still haven’t told me what you wanted.” He asked, leaning up and catching her gaze.

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s so much to do. We could see Rome and the ruins. Or we could go to the Vatican and the beautiful architecture. We could go to Venice and be around the canal. But a day along the vineyards sounds so relaxing as well.” She sighed, collapsing beside him and curling up in his arms as he pulled her in.

“I know one thing we could do in our spare time, Granger.” Draco purred trailing kisses down her neck.

“Draco!” Hermione squealed, turning towards him. 

“Are you rebuffing my advances again, Granger? If I were a lesser man I might have been offended.” Draco murmured softly.

“No! No, I just, I’m really ticklish there.” 

“Duly noted, Granger,” Draco smirked before kissing her deeply, taking the opportunity of her being occupied by his lips to pull her under him. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He purred and Hermione could feel a warmth spreading across her cheeks and pooling in the bottom of her stomach.

Seeing her embarrassment Draco pulled back. “Hermione, do you want this? I’m fine to wait as long as you desire.” 

Seeing the concern in his eyes warmed Hermione’s heart wrapping her arms around his neck she nodded. “I do, Draco, I do. I’m sorry to have made you wait so long.”

Draco chuckled, kissing her forehead, taking his time in the kiss. “Two months is hardly  _ so long  _ but I’m always going to want you, Granger. For now, relax, it’s my turn to make you want me.”

“Your turn, Draco? What are you—?” Draco silenced her with a searing kiss. His lips trailed down her chest and he grumbled lowly. 

“I know you didn’t like this shirt, but I could kiss Pansy for putting you in it.” He chuckled and shifted his weight to his left hand, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, his lips trailing wet kisses after.

“I want you to relax on this vacation. Let me be your first act of relaxation.” Draco looked up at her for just a moment, a mischievous smirk grazing his lips before his hand took to the waistband of her trousers, unbuttoning and pulling them off her in a series of fluid motions. 

Hermione knew Draco was strong, but the way he lifted her up with one hand and pulled her trousers off with the other made her feel nearly weightless. Soon, she was in nothing but a pair of lacy briefs with barely exerting an ounce of energy. 

“This is why Pansy wants you in skirts, but I think I rather like the tease of the extra fabric, just don’t start wearing things with too many laces or ties. I may start ripping to get what I want.” He laughed, removing his shirt. 

“In short, wear incredibly complicated items so you ruin them and I can blame you for when Pansy asks why I’m not wearing them.” Hermione chuckled and sat up a little, trailing a hand down his perfectly sculpted abs. Draco’s vanity was no secret but the way his body looked made her unwilling to care. 

Draco grasped her hand and laid her down by pulling the hand over her head. “Granger I told you, relax. If you don’t let me do my job, I may have to restrain you. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?” 

Hermione shuddered at his words and prayed he didn’t notice how much she loved his praise. Nodding her head, he let go of her hand and she placed it gently at her side. 

“There’s my good girl.” 

Draco began his kisses again, slow, wet, teasing in their nature. He continued his path down her body until he reached the lace panties. Draco paused rifling in his trousers pockets before pulling out his wand, casting a  _ Muffalato _ around the room. 

“What was that for?” Hermione asked, sitting up slightly. Draco’s stern look sent her resting back on the bed.

“My goal is to make you scream. I’d rather it not be announced to the others just how well I achieve my goal.” He winked, nipping at her hips.

Draco breathed against her core and with nigh a warning, he trailed a long hot stroke of his tongue along the fabric. 

“ _ Draco.”  _ Hermione shuddered out, eyes wide as his plan was finally made clear to her. 

“Already swooning for me, Granger? Just wait till I actually make an effort.” Draco smirked and hooked a finger under each hem, pulling them down and off her. 

Draco was a tease at first. He trailed kisses around her hips and up her thighs, nose trailing over the area she wanted him to touch most. It felt like too much stimulation, but at the same time it wasn’t enough. 

Hermione shook when he suddenly used his tongue to stroke her core, hooking an arm around her thigh as licking turned to kissing and sucking. Draco had always been a good kisser, but this, this was a level Hermione couldn’t begin to describe. Draco was not hesitant with his movements, and soon enough Hermione was moaning out his praises. 

Hermione had thought she wasn’t someone that could come quickly. She never asked for oral pleasure because she assumed it would simply take too long for the other person to accomplish their goal. However, Hermione was quickly coming to that climactic peak, and she swore she saw stars as she did.

Panting deeply, Hermione grasped Draco’s shoulders to pull him close to her.

Draco smiled and kissed her deeply. Hermione was wide-eyed at tasting herself on his lips but said nothing more about it. “Feeling relaxed love?”

“Practically boneless.” Hermione sighed in his arms and settled into the warm afterglow of an amazing climax.

“A very decent first try. Get some rest Granger, I’ll be sure to take notes for my plans tonight, and maybe a quick round in the Vineyards.”

“In the Vineyards?” Hermione questioned, looking up at him in curiosity.

“I think it’d be a nice afternoon romp. Not one for outdoor sex, Granger?” He questioned, running his fingers through her hair.

“No—I mean I don’t know.” Hermione bit her lip. “I don’t think that I’m a fan of us being so intimate near our friends.”

“That is not going to be an issue. I know you haven’t seen them, but Blaise’s family vineyards are massive. I could Apparate us so far away even your lovely pipes wouldn’t be heard. I’m sure Theo and Neville will be having a lovely little moment together somewhere not entirely appropriate.”

“Are you making this a competition?” Hermione furrowed her brow.

“Would you hold it against me if I was? I’d be sure to make it worth your while Granger.” He grinned, nipping her ear and trailing feather-light kisses along her jaw.

“Mh-Mm-Mhm fine, Draco, you win.” Hermione tried to argue with him before succumbing to him and kissing him proper.

“I knew you’d see it my way eventually.” He smirked against her lips, pulling her closer.

“Care to have a competition of our own Malfoy?” Hemione raised her eyebrow up at him. Draco’s eyes took on a hungry look.

“Sounds like a challenge I plan to get an Outstanding on, Granger.” Draco pulled her under him again, and flush against his body.

“Not if I beat you to best marks.” Hermione grinned wrapping her legs around him and using his surprise at the action to flip their positions.

“You’re on, Granger. Merlin, I love you.” 

“Love you more, Malfoy.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yous so much to MissELY. This fic would've been practically mediocre without your magic touch. I will miss you on the back end but know that you have works of your own to focus on. Go follow and support my amazing beta.
> 
> ALSO, I MAY BE FINISHED WITH THIS BUT THE UNIVERSE ISN'T CLOSED!!!
> 
> In a few weeks, I will be doing a spinoff fic about Theo entitled The Maturation of Theo Nott. It is both a prequel and a sequel and if you love my Theo Neville pairing, rich people problems or just me in general keep a lookout.
> 
> Also appearing soon I'm doing an 8th-year fic. I want a nice witty banter piece where the biggest villain will be graduation. It's all about high school and it completely is an indulgent piece for me. That will be a Dramione so something for everyone.
> 
> I love you all, hope it's been a wild ride.
> 
> riane.b


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